Inferno
by poxelda
Summary: While Jack and Bozer are out of contact for mandatory wilderness training, Mac and Riley end up in the middle of a forest fire trying to stay alive while escaping from a murder cult.
1. Chapter 1

**Fire** , she birthed all things, she takes all things back. Her light dancing shoes twirling the brightest near her floor, nearest to the earth, the hotest and cleanest flames are at the bottom of the fire. Cat eyes, orange hips swaying to the call of detruction, creation, destruction as she laps away life-aboreal, animal, home. Ash, all becomes darkend gnarled knuckles of tarred wood or grey snowflakes falling from thick black clouds. The sky is painted with the northern lights when the dark cotton is spun to gauze, as she removes veil by veil. She speaks with the throats of Hell, the roar of a tornado. Any who hear it, never forget it. Divine, beautiful fire-I am your prophet, I am Prometheus bringing you to the undeserving humans. I am Moses who has tossed his sandals aside, to walk into your holy presence, to hear your whispered siren song, to bring them to you, and bring you to them.

The far wall of the Seattle convention center looked like concrete stalagtites layered then melted into the wall. Above crystal clear cubes pile on top of one another, giving a vastness to the lobby that made it bigger than a cave. The storm outside made sheets of rain tumble from one to the next, made Riley think of a waterfall from a Tarzan movie that Jane always showered in.

"Oh wow." The subdued voice of Valerie Lawson said as she peered through her thick glasses taking in the sheer scale of the building and the multitude milling around in it. The annual nation STEM science fair always drew thousands of the best and brightest young minds in the US everywhere. As Valerie stepped back into Riley's legs, Riley could almost feel the fear comiing off the girl. Despite what anyone said, she constantly said she didn't belong here, that she wasn't that smart. Riley put comforting hands on the girl's shoulders. Valerie looked up at her gratefully.

Riley had to admit, she felt way out of her depth too. She had been surprised when Mac had asked her to go with them. Jack and Bozer were out of contact doing mandatory surrvival training. Riley laughed at the fear in Bozer's eyes when he learned Jack would be his trainer, not Mac. Mac had bowed out to come here and support his young protege. Mac would deny that was what Valerie was, but Riley had often seen the pride in his eyes when she would call to ask a complicated technological question way over Riley's head.

Mac had encouraged the girl to go out of her comfort zone, to show her talent to the world. All the STEM kids competed for grants and scholarships. Mac had admitted that he had won seven fairs, but amended that he only took home one trophy. When asked he would shrug and say it was no big deal. Jack had made Riley promise to get the story out of him about those other six trophies before they returned to California. Bozer said he was sworn to secrecy. When asked if it involved the destruction of another football stadium, Bozer had just laughed and said that Mac would still have gotten the trophy if that was all that had happened. Still since fair #7 had proved to be lucky, Mac had gotten a full ride to MIT. Riley knew he wanted Valerie to have the same chance he did, although she was thinking of Stanford or Cal Sci. Since she made it here the first year she was eligible to compete, Valerie had plenty of time to decide what she wanted to do.

Riley jumped as Mac materialized at her elbow. His eyes were gleaming and he was grinning like a kid in the candy store.

"I'll go get us signed in." He said. Mac seemed to bounce then was lost in the milling crowd. He reminded Riley of Tigger. Riley wasn't sure who was more excited Mac or Valerie. Pushing a bell hop cart loaded to overflowing with their luggage and crates containing parts of Valerie's exhibit, Pete Lawson drew up beside Riley panting with effort. He looked even more out of place than she felt. Riley knew the man would rather have his hands in the oily guts of a muscle car then surrounded by brilliant nerds, as Jack would say.

"Mac's getting us signed in." Riley updated him. He nodded his eyes wide. He looked down at his little girl and she took his hand. The pride on the man's face was almost palpable. Pete had told Riley over and over how grateful he was to MacGyver, not only for saving the life of his girl and getting him free of the clutches of drug smugglers, but also mentoring her. Pete understood less of what they talked about than Riley did.

"Ok, " Mac said making Riley jump. He gave her an amused smile and held out four plastic badges on blue string. "Here's our passes. And these are for out suite." He said grinning as he pulled out three key cards. He gave them to Riley, Pete, and kept one. He looked down at Valerie who shrugged.

"Did you say suite?" Riley asked. Mac nodded and went to grab the bell hop cart. Pete went to take it from him and Mac waved him away. The man stared after them a little lost. Riley reached out and pulled the man by his arm patting it in sympathy. Mac had insisted on paying all expences for the entire six days. While they stood outside surprisingly plain elevator doors, Mac kept squirming unable to stand still. Before Riley said anything a new voice interrupted her.

"Angus MacGyver? Is that really you?" They all turned. The man striding toward them was tall and broad. He wore an expensive suit obviously tailored to fit him. He had dark, almost black eyes and short hair that looked shellacked in place. He reminded Riley of Clark Kent. As he neared, she didn't miss the two guards flanking him farther away trying to blend in badly. He had a hypnotic gaze that seemed to rake in every curve and crevice. He reminded her of Kaa from the jungle book. When he turned away, Riley found herself letting go of a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

When MacGyver introduced her, the man smiled and kissed her hand. His grip was limp and sweaty. She surreptitiouly wiped her hand on her pants when he turned back to Mac. There was something about him that made her skin crawl.

"Riley, this is Derick Trevers, we were in alot of the same STEM fairs together." Mac was pleasant, but Riley could tell there was definitely no love lost between the two.

"Mac is being modest as usual. He trounced me over five times, although he did end up forfeiting three of those letting me slip into the winning spot." He turned back to Mac and slapped him hard enough on the back to make him take a step forward. Mac rolled his eyes. "And is this our newest contestant?" Derick said reaching out a hand to Valerie. Valerie reluctantly shook then her father did. Neither said anything. "When I heard there was another entry from Mission City I just knew you had to be involved." He said beaming at Mac.

"Valerie is here all on her own, I had nothing to do with it." Mac said softly looking impatiently at the elevators. So what are you doing here, Derick?"

"I'm one of the sponsors." The man said. Mac's eyebrows raised. "After I graduated with honors from Carnegie Mellon I founded a R and D company that focuses on designing new protective equipment for first responders, especially fire men." Mac gave a sincere smile.

"That's great finding ways to help those guys, they sure deserve it." Mac said. Derick preened under the praise. Obviously he still felt very competative with Mac.

Mac pressed the lit up button hoping the elevator would come faster.

"What about you? I heard you were at MIT, then left it unexpectedly." Derick said. Riley wanted to step in and blast the condescending ass. Mac layed a hand on her arm and shook his head. Riley sniffed. Of course Mac was perfectly composed, after all the things he's faced a braggart he knew as a kid was hardly a blip on the radar. However, Riley did notice him repeatedly looking at the elevator wanting to escape as much as she did. Derick was oblivious to all this.

"I work at a think tank." Mac said. Riley noted the ease which he dodged all of the questions Derick would try to make sound like failures.

"Ah, so you sold out to the government machine." The man said. Riley was about to laugh when she realized Derick was perfectly serious. Her and Mac shared a puzzled look.

"No, we're more of an independent entity." Mac said smoothly.

"And what do you do there?" Derick asked. Riley was tired of being just a bystander.

"A little of this, a little of that." She said. Derick looked at her with a flash of anger. She smiled sweetly. The elevator doors opened with a ding.

"This is us, nice to see you again Derick." Mac offered with an overly exaggerated pleasantness. Derick nodded and gave him a little bow, his dark eyes never leaving Mac's face. After the doors closed, Riley shuddered and looked at Mac.

"What a creep!" She said. Mac smiled reachng over and hitting the button.

"You should have seen his father." Mac offered.

"No, thank you." Riley said looking up at the numbers inching by floor by floor. She so needed a shower. She told herself it wasn't because of Derick Trevors, but she admitted that would only be partly true.

Bozer was breathing hard and hurt in places he didn't even know muscles existed in. He had blisters on his feet and hands as he used the thick rope to climb the cliff face. Jack had already scurried up the mountain like damn spiderman.

"C'mon bud, we only have an hour before dark." Jack called down. Bozer scowled at the amusement in his voice.

"Climb up a damn cliff, what do I look like a damn goat…" Bozer kept up a steady stream of complaints as he went, under his breath of course. If he didn't pass this week of training, he would be grounded from going into the field until he passed. Riley had passed. Of course Mac had been her trainer. She had complained bitterly about it, but Mac had to be better than Jack, right? Finally he reached the top and grabbed onto Jack's gloved fist. He helped Bozer over the ledge and let him take a break to catch his breath.

"How ya doin' Boze?" Jack said eyeing the younger man up and down. Bozer took a long drag of cool water from the water bottle strapped to his leg. He forced himself to smile.

"Is that all you got, Jack?" Bozer said his voice thick with bravado. Jack's laugh put a chill up Bozer's spine.

"Oh no, Boze. That's just getting to the test. We haven't even started yet." The older man patted Bozer on the back then headed into the woods setting a grueling pace. Bozer groaned and fought to keep up. Jack seemed to float through every bush and briar that lashed painfully onto Bozer's clothes. He didn't turn to check on Bozer and he didn't stop to offer help. Bozer was fine with that, but the man didn't even have the good grace to look remotely winded.

 **Fire.** How these animals that flee before your might fear you. And yet you spare them taking only the weakest, thinning the herds of Caribou, deer, and countless others who think they are safe in the forest's embrace. And man, man called you friend, believed they have trained you, they are your zoo keeper. Foolish mortals. Natives say you were brought by the Trixter god Coyote from fire mountain. Man thought to warm them, to cook meals and save them from disease. But Coyote is mischievious, he knew your nature would break free, always be unconquered. You are the 100 firebirds Hui Lu tried to trap in his magical gourd that escaped and reigned terror down on millions. You are Agni, consuming and consuming, making all life new in your wake, purifying souls, making us immortal.

Riley felt about twenty pounds lighter when she came out of the single bedroom. She had a towel rolled up in her hair like a turban. She admired the suite realizing what a pretty penny it must have cost. There was a large central room with white and silver modern couches and chairs, a glass coffee table, and demure short red area rug that just about covered the entire room. Mac sat on the couch staring into a huge stone fireplace that was empty except for blackened logs. He stared into space that was much farther away than just the hollow opening before him.

"Hey Mac." Riley said. When Mac didn't answer, Riley stepped over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped and put his hand over his heart.

"Riley! Damn you're going to give me a heart attack." He gasped. She laughed and sat beside him.

"What has you a million miles away?" She asked. He looked down at his hands and frowned.

"I was just remembering the last few times I was here." His smile was sad. "The first couple of times Gramps came with me, then Mr. Anderson came once."

"And the other times?' Riley asked gently. Mac smiled and stood up.

"Anyway, Valerie and her dad went off after food, are you hungry?" Riley frowned at the obvious side step. Riley let it go. She wasn't Jack and she didn't feel like it was her place to pick Mac's life traumas apart until he was ready to share them. She stood up.

"I heard there's a killer donut shop in Seattle." She said. Mac's eye brows vanished in blonde bangs.

"Donuts for supper?" He asked. She grinned and waited. Mac laughed and shrugged. Jack wasn't here, why the hell not?

"There are a lot more than just one." He said. She shrugged.

"Let's hit them all." She said, giggling mischieviously. Mac shook his head.

"Ok, but don't come crying to me when you are unconscious with a blood sugar of 1000!"

"What a way to go!" Riley cooed following him out of the suite. They were in the elevator when it stopped at the forth floor. A man got on that made Riley uneasy. He was thin with a huge nose that seemed to twitch. His eyes were wide apart and Riley felt like they were moving in different directions to watch her. Riley looked up at the numbers wishing they would go faster. She glanced over at Mac who was studying the man with a worried frown, or more exactly what the man was carrying. The man held a cleaning caddy with several cleaners in it. He held a mop full of wire and electroncs and a roll of twine under his left arm. She was going to open her mouth to ask him what was wrong but he looked at her and put a finger across his lips. Riley nodded understanding. They got off at the lobby level as planned.

Mac pivotted and watched the numbers go down to a second basement. He scowled and nodded to himself. He turned and grabbed Riley by the arms.

"Get everyone out of here." He said Mac's voice was calm, but urgent.

"Mac? What's he doing?"

"He's going to set a bomb down by the propane boiler. It could blow up this whole building." Her eyes widened.

"Are you sure?" She asked, hoping he'd deny it. He gave her a look, the look. It was a guess, but a brilliant guess fully backed up by every instinct Mac had. She nodded, Riley trusted Mac never seeing him ever be wrong yet. She turned and ran for the front desk. Mac's eyes wondered around until he found a door marked stairs. He braced himself and broke into a run, knowing the seconds were ticking by fast.


	2. Chapter 2

**Fire.** No one ever chooses to be a prophet. No one truly understands the cost counted, the true price to speak to the divine and have it speak back. Look at the bible-beaten, stoned, crucified. The world is not kind to those who it measures outside its accepted limits, you have to leave those limits behind to reach the divine, no matter what the cost. I once lived surrounded by society. Like the wood sticks and drywall I lived in, I thought I was untouchable, safe, secure. I had three lilies, three stars, three angels live with me. My wife, a beautiful cataily strong, elegant...my oldest, a fragrant Easter lily easily welcomed wherever she went, and my tigerlily, bursting with color and energy like fireworks. My family, my castle, my life-but how you took them. I hated you, faster than the eye could follow your firebrands hit the roof, the lawn, our whole neighborhood was clawed apart, chewed to ash. My beautiful lilies melted before me, the horrible barbeque smell, the plastic melting, explosions as propane tanks cooked. It was all smoke, ember and ash. Why didn't you take me? I hated you then. But then I felt the call. I heard your voice inside my bone marrow. When you are not angry, when you don't lose yourself in your chaos, your hunger, I hear my lilies, I see their faces dancing inside your dancing brilliant flame, calling to me, promising eternal life... I understand your speech now. I know what you have called me to do, and why. I will gladly bring others into you, into immortality. I am your prophet, no matter the cost I hear and I obey.

Bozer hated the "great" outdoors. He woke up shivering in his sleeping bag. He felt bruised and beaten from top to bottom. Bozer was pretty sure Jack told him to sleep in that spot because every sharp stone for miles was concentrated in that one six by three rectangle. He stretched yawning and scratched his arm. Vampire bugs had sucked liters out of him last night, Bozer was sure he'd seen mosquitoes that were big enough to be Cali's state bird. What was Cali's state bird? Bozer yawned and blinked. The circle of stones Jack had put around the small camp fire was out, the ashes cold. More frightening was the absence of one Jack Dalton. Bozer swallowed.

"That's cool. It's ok, he went to do his business." Bozer said softly. He looked around him. The woods suddenly seemed full of scary shadows and menace. Bozer shook his head. "Pull yourself together." He told himself. He saw a small sack on Jack's side of the fire. With a cold log in his stomach he bent and opened it. A folded up note sat nestled in with a small hatchet, a rope and a map. Bozer closed his eyes and slowly unfolded the note.

 _Morning Boze, glad you slept so well last night, got a big day planned today. On the map you'll see an x, that marks the spot I'll meet you. Have fun. Don't die, Jack_

"Oh, C'mon you have to be frickin' kidding me!" Bozer yelled to the woods around him. He crushed the note threw it on the ground, stomped it, picked it up ripped it into pieces and then the pieces into pieces. "Don't die...would serve you right...you hillbilly redneck mother…" Bozer howled. He then sat down panting, wanting to cry. He took a deep breath. "Ok, ok I can do this. I watched almost all 34 years of _Survivor_...except that one in Borneo too many snakes…" Bozer looked around him nervously. Did they have snakes like Borneo in California? He closed his eyes. There are no snakes, there are no snakes...Bozer thought of Mac. He opened his eyes and squared his shoulders. He'd be damned if some redneck or some snakes, some huge, hungry, poison-spitting-sneaky snakes were going to make him let his friend down. He just had to think like MacGyver, right? Right?

As far as self-pep talks went, it wasn't his best, but it got him up. He rolled up his sleeping bag. It was the only thing they had let him bring, not even toilet paper-which he thought was unnecessarily cruel. Out in the field there'd be TP, Bozer was sure. He unrolled the map. The X, and Jack had made it a huge red one, looked like it was near a river to the north? Bozer realized he had no idea where he was on the map. He took another deep breath, he was not in _Blair Witch,_ he was not in _Blair Witch..._ Besides they wouldn't let him die, right? Bozer swallowed and picked up the bag. A hatchet and rope? What the hell was he going to do with a hatchet and a rope? He went to take a sip from his bottle only to realize it was empty. Bozer almost burst into tears. It had been full last night, hadn't it? He really couldn't remember but figured he'd blame it on Jack anyway.

"You are so going to be in trouble when I tell Mac how you're tryin' to kill me!" Bozer yelled. The forest around him seemed to hold its breath then burst out laughing with the eerie calls of crows, or ravens. Bozer felt himself shiver. He didn't know what the difference between a crow and a raven was, but he'd seen _The Birds._ Bozer closed his eyes, for once wishing he didn't like movies so much. Most movies that started out in the bright pretty day woods ended with terrified runs in the dark where you fell and...got murdered, dragged to a witches broken ass hut, or eaten...Bozer scanned the woods. The crows...or ravens...laughed at him, telling him to wait…

"Oh shut up!" Bozer yelled at him shaking his head. Yelling at birds, great. Creepy ass, flesh eating, nasty ass birds… Bozer's stomach rolled. Bozer winced. No food. He looked around him. A squirrel jumped across a branch above him. Did it taste like chicken? Chicken, hmmm...Bozer shook his head. What the hell? He'd only been in the forest a day and he already was thinking about the cute, furry creatures as food. Probably the only creature in the forest that didn't want to eat him. Bozer shook away the image of a giant zombie squirrel. He shuddered and turned back to the map.

He squinted up at the sun. This early it would be in the east...he couldn't see it through the thick canopy overhead...of course not! Bozer walked up to a tree. Yep, moss grew on the north side of the tree, and the east, and the west, and the south..great. He froze at the snap of a branch. I am not in _The Blair Witch..._ I am not in _The Blair Witch..._ He crouched low. He didn't know if it would help in an evil witch's attack, but it seemed like the thing to do. He pulled out the hatchet and waited.

Two huge deer with stately trees of horn growing from their heads, slowly stepped through the woods.

"Oh, wow." Bozer breathed his eyes widening with wonder. Two smaller deer and a fawn followed. It was the fawn who made the small noises. He...she?...didn't have the swing of moving silently through the woods yet. Bozer smiled. Right there with you, baby deer. He said to himself. He watched them slowly move out of sight and breathed a sigh of contentment. Maybe the woods weren't so bad after all. He licked his lips, his dry lips. Bozer jumped to his feet remembering something he'd seen on _Animal Planet_ some dudes who lived in the jungle would go out hunting. When asked how they tracked the animals they said they followed them to water. Deer drank water. If Bozer kept an eye on them, they had to go to water eventually, right?

"Baby deer, deer..." He called softly. After the silent passage of the deer his voice and his footsteps seemed like gunshots. He tried to avoid breaking twigs or making noise as he walked, but it felt like the twigs were part of the conspiracy against him. The crows croaked in amusement. Bozer shot them a glare. He decided he'd blame it all on Jack, and oh would he get what was coming to him, Bozer promised as he slowly made his way after the deer.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

The girl at the front desk called her supervisor, he called his supervisor, she called the convention center manager on duty. Riley pleaded her case, getting more and more frustrated as they shut her down. She turned in a huff looking at all the kids and their families. She bit her lip, then smiled. Riley went over to a corner out of the desk's view and pulled out her rig. It took Riley all of a minute to hack the fire system. Careful to make sure the sprinklers didn't come on, she didn't want to destroy all the kids work in the exhibit hall-if they didn't get blown up. The blare of the fire alarm was painfully loud. She put away her laptop and crept around the heavy flow of traffic coming out from the main exhibit hall.

Some in the crowd looked worried, but most were calm, laughing and joking assuming it was just an alarm test. Riley hoped that was all it would end up being. She shoved her way through the crowd as gently as she could and breathed a sigh when she reached the less crowded hallway. She paused looking at the elevator. Riley suspected that Mac wouldn't have taken the elevator as it made that annoying ding when it arrived and someone who was going to blow up a huge convention hall in downtown Seattle would not be someone you would want to see you coming. She found the stairs and slowly made her way down checking up and below for any other people. Fear floated up her throat making her want to gag or puke. For once, she wished Jack was here. He would dive in gun drawn kicking ass taking names. Riley took a breath, as she turned to go down from the first to the second basement. She paused, hearing the soft murmur of voices. She couldn't tell what they were saying, but she recognized one as MacGyver. She continued down wiping her sweaty palms on her leggings. Like it or not, she was the only backup Mac had.

Mac had followed the guy like a ghost. He frowned as he came out into the second basement. It was dim, almost dark. It smelled like every other basement he'd been in before-a combination of mold, dust and grease. Mac ducked under a cobweb draped over a cord that had fallen from the cement roof. Mac paused breathing through his mouth so he could hear better. He heard the man mumbling to himself off to Mac's right. Mac slowly crept that way every sense honed for any minute change. The basement above was the true basement, this was only a fraction basement put in to house the combustible fuel system the building used. Mac thought about how much propane it would take to power the building and computed the damage it would do. Even factoring the cement barriers in the walls surrounding them, it would still take out at least half of the building. Visions of 911 floated through his mind. No, that wasn't going to happen, not while he could stop it. He stopped just outside a small pool of yellow light.

The man knelt beside the middle of three huge white tanks of propane. He had electronic devices on each tank that fed back to the chemicals he had in the bucket. It was a smart system Mac had never seen before, but it wasn't a professional job. The idea was the man would pull the rope knocking a bottle of Ajax into the bucket causing an exothermic reaction, when the fluid in the bucket became hot enough it would trigger the devices. A simple but effective timer. The man stepped back, checked his handiwork. It would be simple to diffuse, just toss the bucket contents on the floor. Mac braced himself, the reaction would take time to build. The man had allowed for time to get out of the building. Mac would have plenty of time…

Mac was lifted off the ground and throw toward the man. He landed hard and looked up. One of Derick's bodyguards stood over him. The man looked bored. He didn't make any other move toward Mac. Mac stood and looked around him. In the dimly lit circle, he couldn't make out much around him, but he knew there was at least one other out there, maybe more.

"Wh...wh...who the hell are you?" The man setting the bomb said in a high screech. Mac turned. The man was terrified, but not of him. Mac frowned. There was something going on here more than just the bomb. Mac glanced at the muscle who took a step forward and crossed his arms. Mac straightened and looked at the bomber.

"My name is Angus MacGyver. I can't let you set that bomb." The man looked at him, his eyes begging for...for what? To be stopped? To let him finish blowing up the building?

"I'm sorry, sorry...they have my family…" The man chirped.

"Oh shut up, Samson." A familiar voice said. Mac turned letting out a breath, somehow not surprised.

"Derick." He said. Derick smiled as he stepped into the light. He brandished a baretta. Mac ignored that for a minute focusing on the delight in Derick's face. For the first time, Mac understood what Jack meant when he said someone had a punch-face. Mac would probably have given his last two paychecks to punch the man.

"Ah, Mac. Always trying to outshine me, aren't you? This is too perfect. I can blow up the building and have you as a patsy. I don't know what you've been doing, but I know you did always have a knack for blowing things up, and going to jail." Mac shook his head. Is that what the kid had heard? Mac must have had quite a rep for it to reach Seattle. Mac narrowed his eyes. Unless he'd heard it from someone else. Mac suddenly felt like a fly realizing the tip of it's wing was caught on a spider's web. Had it all been a trap? Mac shoved those questions aside for later, if there was a later.

"Why do you want to blow up the building? Insurance? You said you are a sponsor…"

"You are so droll." Derick said with a wave. He crossed and looked into the bucket and nodded his head. "Well done, Samson. Very clever."

"Please, Mr. Trever let my family go...please, kill me if you want to but spare them…" Derick shrugged.

"I can't help your family, their fate is sealed. But kill you? Ok." Derick leveled and pulled the trigger in one neat move. Samson's head exploded. Mac winced at the hot splatter that covered his face. He looked up at Derick feeling anger boiling inside. He had never liked the blowhard bully. Mac had no proof but he had always suspected Derick of setting him up to be disqualified. Seeing the monster before him, Mac could see the same nasty kid watching him, looking for respect, or fear. Mac casually wiped his face with his sleeve.

"So why, Derick?" Mac asked. His voice was soft as if he was casually asking about what games were coming on TV. Inside blew a tornado. Derick's eyes widened. His lips pursed and Mac thought the large man was about to throw himself on the ground and have a mighty three-year=old tantrum. Mac glanced back at muscles, he looked bored. Oddly Mac almost felt sorry for the man imagining what Derick must be like to work for. Mac tured as Derick sucked in a breath that sounded like a bear's rumble.

"I'm going to make a name for myself, you hear me? I'm going to be the hero this time. The building is going to go up and all those first responders are going to come and need gear…"

"Which you just happen to have on hand." Mac finished. He shook his head staring at Derick. "That's one of the…"

"Most brilliant!" Derick crowed.

"...Dumbest plans I've ever heard of." Mack said. "And all those people, for what? Your vanity?" Mac did his best not to flinch when the black tunnel of the beretta faced him. Derick's hand was visibly shaking. Mac's eyes scrubbed the basement around him trying to find something, anything...Derick smiled and Mac could see the muscles of his hand tightening. A beefy hand came out and snatched the gun with the speed of the viper. Mac blinked as the other bodyguard stepped into the light and looked at Derick with a scowl. Derick's face was hot pink as he turned to beat down the man. The man held up a phone.

Mac watched curiously as Derick seemed to blanch, he shuffled and looked down at the floor.

"What?" He asked. Mac got the impression of a teenager arguing with his dad because he wanted to take the car out but had already smashed it the last three times he'd taken it out. His eyes rose to meet Mac's face with surprise, and hatred. "No, no! Why him…? Why is it always…" Derick closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. Mac noticed no one was really looking at him. He began to inch around Samson's body toward the bucket. "What? No. Of course not, as you say." Derick said handing the phone back to the bodyguard without looking at him. "It seems to be your lucky day, again."

Mac felt the two body guards come in toward him. He jumped forward, grabbed the bucket and threw its contents into Derick's face. He turned and ran for the door. He tripped over Samson's leg. He jumped to his feet but not fast enough. A hand grabbed him around his neck and body slammed him to concrete. Mac huffed in pain shaking away the stars and trying to suck in air. He reached up to the man still bent over him, holding him by the neck almost gently. Mac frowned. They wanted him alive. Why? He ignored the question reached up to grab the man's shirt and pulled him down planting his foot in the man's groin kicking up at the same time. The man gave a surprised yelp before sliding across the concrete into Derick's legs knocking him to the ground.

Mac didn't waste time he sprung to his feet and punched the remaining body guard hard enough to hurt all the way to his elbow. The man returned the favor and Mac fell on his ass dazed. He glanced up and saw Riley looking at him wide eyed, wondering what she could do to help.

"Run!" Mac yelled. He heard a metallic sound and pivoted. Derick raised the beretta aiming it at Riley. He paused to glare at Mac as if he was finally winning some sort of contest. That pause is what saved Riley. It gave Mac time to turn and tackle the man. They went down in a rolling pile of arms and legs. Mac tried to get a grip on the gun, but he couldn't. The roar of it firing was muted, but the pain ripping into MacGyver's side wasn't. He cried out and rolled over on his back trying to suck in air around the shock of agony. He looked up and saw Derick covered in Mac's blood grinning in delight as he pointed the gun at Mac's head. Once again Mac's life was saved by one of the bodyguards.

"No, Derick. The boss wants us to bring him back, alive." The man sounded completely unfazed by the violence. Derick began to shake with rage. Red-faced he glared at Mac. Mac thought he was going to pull the trigger anyway. He snarled and handed the gun to the bigger man.

"Fine." Derick pouted. Mac would have laughed, if he could have taken in enough air. He curled up on his side and scanned for Riley. He smiled in relief. She crouched behind some abandoned machinery looking at him and the others trying to figure out what to do. She held a pipe in her hand. Mac shook his head and mouthed the word "later". Riley glared back and shook her head pointing to the pipe. Mac rolled his eyes and glanced at the others who were gathering themselves. He mouthed the word "Go" and "Now." She waved the pipe frustrated. As the bodyguards came over to Mac she nodded, pointed at the pipe, and at Mac. Mac managed a weak smile and nodded. He would be delighted to see Riley when she came to rescue him. Riley faded back into the shadows as the two men bent and lifted Mac. A cry escaped his mouth and he closed his eyes being dragged into darkness by the tornado of dizziness.

Bozer was sweaty and sore and tired. He was too tired to worry about the woods, which by the afternoon sun was looking a lot friendlier. He paused wiping his head with his forearm. He was thirsty and hungry and really rethinking his career at Phoenix. Then he heard it, he looked up grinning. Distantly he heard the call of water pouring over stone. He'd found the river. He crashed through the woods until he came out on a low pool at the bottom of high stepping stones which water-fresh, clean, water came down in a steady stream. Bozer didn't stop, he ran to the water and plunged his head in drinking deeply. He came up, grinned. It crossed his mind to wonder what chemicals he was drinking, but he really didn't care. He cupped the water in his hand several times until he felt it slosh through his entire body. He knelt back and looked up. More blue sky was visible above him. He let out a breath. He was going to live after all. He wiped his wet face and went to get out the map. At least he had a landmark to find his way by. A low growl froze his hand. He slowly turned and looked directly into the very, very pissed eyes of a mountain lion. Behind her, it had to be a her, were three fluffy cubs poking out between her legs. Evidently she'd had the same idea as the deer.

Bozer looked around. No deer. He didn't mean to throw the beautiful creatures under the bus, but if it was him or them...Bozer slowly moved into a crouch. The panther hissed and growled louder. Bozer froze. He knew that sound. He'd heard it out of the throat of Agnes, his aunt's cat usually before she clawed the shit out of his hand. Bozer gulped. Every instinct told him to run, run fast and climb a tree. Visions of Agnes pawing mice until they ran then chasing them so she could paw them again until she grew bored and snapped their spines ran through his head. He did not want to be played to death with so he mentally nailed his feet where they were. Besides, what about the cat's claw tree? Would a real tree stop this kitty any more than that one did Agnes? What was he going to do? The panther's side seemed to flare out, all of her fur up. Oh hell, Bozer thought straightening. Arched back, puffy tail...This was all Jack's fault, Bozer thought as the panther leapt the same time as Bozer dove for the water.


	3. Chapter 3

**Fire:** In the beginning, according to scientists there was a big explosion, everything was burning and new. According to the bible, God said let there be light. What else is fire but a light? The sun is fire, the earth is still cooling fire. Children were passed through the fire to worship Moloch, witches were burned at the stake, Hell is a lake of fire, fire is at the last judgement...all things are cleansed through fire. I see you coming to me, we are ready for you. He is coming, my Golden Child. At last there is one worthy to pass through you and bring us into your eternal embrace.

Riley followed the trio of men taking MacGyver. One of the huge bodyguards, Riley decided to call him Thing #1 because he seemed to rank higher in whatever organization was behind all this. He's the one that saved Mac and had the Boss on speed dial. Thing #2 was the stereotypical flunky, only quieter and looking much more bored. They stopped by a maids cleaning cart and Thing #1 grabbed a huge stack of towels and a roll of wide orange tape. Riley was somewhat reassured by this. They would hopefully use that to bandage MacGyver when they get to where they're going.

They turned onto smaller hallways that led to a back door to the hotel. They didn't seem real concerned about security in the hotel seeing them, but appeared to not want guests to freak out. Riley wondered who owned the hotel. She ducked down behind the maid's cart when Thing #2 turned back to scan the hallway before they exited the building. Once they were out of sight, Riley ran to the glass door and cracked it. She was just in time to see Mac loaded into a gold stretch limo with the plate "DERICK."

Her mind turned over possibilities but could find no way to stop the car from leaving. She smiled, she might be able to stop it, or at least slow it down. She pulled out her laptop and crouched. It took about two minutes to crack the Seattle police network and put out a BOLO for the limo. That would slow them down. She then hacked the DMV. To her surprise, Derick did not own the limo. Someone named Henry Traver's did. Mac had mentioned something about Derick's dad being a nutcase or something. She googled him and found out he was the leader of a small church community, The Church of the Eternal Flame. The CEF, as it called itself, was a congregation that lived in a ghost town in the Canadian Northern Territories. Riley frowned. They had ghost towns?

Further quick googling found that Haven, the compound they lived in was a cluster of bungalows and quonset huts in a round canyon sided on three sides by cliffs and one side by water polluted by mine runoff, cyanide and mercury. The city had died when the nearby mines failed, and everyone left when the water became deadly. The Traver's owned Haven. Riley frowned. There was a forest fire up in the area. According to the article, the group had been ordered to leave the small settlement because it had been condemned as bad for health of its residents. No kidding, she thought. The massive forest fire was grinding through miles of Boreal forest heading inevitably in the direction of Haven. Riley chewed on her lip. She found a footnote link and clicked. The Canadian mounties had sent several agents to investigate accusation against Henry Travers, they had never returned. Riley scowled. It seemed pretty easy to connect the dots. For some reason the Trever's really wanted Mac, except Derick. He seemed like he's much more interested in killing Mac. Riley took a deep breath. There was no way she'd let that happen.

It was a safe bet they had a plane of some sort. She found the registration for a Pilatus PC-12 under the church's name. She found a private airfield owned by the CEF. Riley stowed her laptop. She scanned around her. Traffic had been a mess with the National STEM fair. She needed something that can move through traffic easier than a car. She smiled. Across the parking lot was a small huddle of perky blondes surrounding a fat man in a dirty t-shirt that said Germ in what looked like bedazzled plastic gems. He had green spiky hair and everything she could see was pierced. She closed out the image of where else he might be pierced with a shudder.

Riley knew the kind of guy he was. He was trying to desperately get adoration. Riley would have easily dismissed him if not for the very beautiful Suzuki behind him. Riley threw her hair back and strutted up to the man. She winced. Evidently his name actually was Germ. That'd get you noticed, but probably not the way he wanted to be. She walked out, as expected the beady eyes in the man's fat face slid to her. The bubble blondes, Riley really had no idea why they were cooing over him. Germ? Seriously? Maybe he had money. Riley grinned and looked down at the ground coyly.

"Nice bike." She said as sultry as she could manage. Germ stared at her, his mouth literally hanging open. Riley walked over to the bike and gently stroked it. She was thrilled to see the keys were in it. "I bet it goes really fast?" Riley made her voice pouty.

"Y...yeah. Do you want a ride?" He asked in a nasal whine. Riley smiled.

"Oh yes." She gushed. She casually put her leg over the seat. She smiled sweetly at Germ, turned the key and sped out of the parking lot leaving a good sized tread mark. Riley leaned forward grinning. She was use to Harley's, but hey, thieves cant be choosy.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Bozer spit out water. He looked over his shoulder. The panther literally was looking at him and licking her lips. Bozer did a desperate dog paddle through the brisk current to the other side of the small river. He looked over his shoulder and didn't realize how close to the stones on the other side he was until a hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder. Bozer shrieked and whirled. A smiling Jack Dalton was reaching out a hand. Bozer glared up at him. And refused to come closer. Jack shook his head.

"C'mon, man." Jack said. Bozer shook his head.

"How do I know you won't psych me out and throw me over the waterfall?" Jack's eyebrows rose.

"Really dude? Why would I do that?"

"I don't know, Jack, you seem to have a very deep need to make my life hell and get me killed! You left me to wander out in the wilderness alone, no food, no water, and damn panthers…"

"Bozer, I had you in sight the whole time, I wouldn't have let anything happen to you, Mac would kill me." Jack said calmly.

"You didn't save me from Mama kitty over there!" Jack rolled his eyes.

"I didn't have time, you saved yourself. It was actually pretty badass." Jack said. Bozer found himself smiling.

"Really?"

"Hell yeah!" Bozer glanced back over at the family of panthers. The kits were walking away, the mom was watching over them with a very nasty, very hungry glare at Bozer. Bozer's eyes widened. He turned around and reached up to take Jack's hand.

"Jack, get me the hell out of here, she's looking at me like a porkchop!" Jack chuckled as he hauled Bozer to dry land. Bozer knelt on all fours breathing heavy. He looked down at the stone and frowned. What looked like huge soggy snowflakes were falling all around him. He looked up at Jack who was helping take off his wet sleeping bag. He studied it and whistled. He turned it. Bozer paled. Across the back of the vinyl was a very clear, very deep series of tears, from a big cats claws.

"I don't feel so good." Bozer said. He started to feel dizzy. Jack knelt and put his arm on Bozer's shoulder.

"Just breathe, Bud. Deep breaths...that's it…"

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Matty sat at her desk filing a month's worth of reports. She had several teams in the field but without Mac and his team things were so much quieter. Matty wasn't sure if that was because they always got the hardest assignments or because they were just high maintenance in general. She took a sip of tea from her thermos. Matty did admit that she was closer to Mac's team than the other teams. They were the only ones who got to call her Matty. Matty considered them friends, she smiled, even Jack-although she would never him that. He has enough problems with a swelled head.

Matty looked up at a tentative knock on the open door. She saw one of her operations coordinators. They were the ones that got the teams to where they needed to be with what they needed to complete their mission. This was a tall, gangly man recruited his senior year at Northwest. Not the smartest cookie, but brilliant at organization.

"Yes?" Matty asked. He pushed thick black glasses higher on his nose.

"Ma'am we have a phone call from MacGyver coming in." Matty looked at her phone it hadn't rung and no messages were left. She frowned.

"It came in through the public Think Tank line. And there was no call or counter sign." Matty felt her stomach drop. Mac calling on his vacation? On an unsecure line without proving his ID? No way this was a good thing. Matty lifted her nonsecure landline. The kid stood staring at her wide eyed. She raised an eyebrow, he nodded, pivoted and dashed down the hallway. Matty rolled her eyes and connected the call. In her best impression of a secretary she answered pleasantly,

"The Phoenix Foundation." She was surprised to hear the hesitant voice of a little girl on the other end.

"I'm calling about MacGyver." The girl said softly. Matty frowned.

"Who are you, honey?"

"I'm Valerie Lawson." Matty sat up straight.

"Why didn't Mac call me?" She asked with trepidation.

"I don't know." The girl's voice wavered, but she wasn't crying. Tough cookie, Matty thought. "There was a fire drill, we went outside when we came back in Riley and Mac were gone. We checked everywhere. I found his phone and saw the think tank number and called. I'm really worried." Matty took a deep breath.

"Ok, I'll take care of it. Is your father with you?"

"Yes, he's out checking the nearby restaurants just to make sure."

"Ok, you stay with him at the hotel and I'll have Jack and Bozer meet you, you remember them?"

"Yes, thank you."

"OK, if you need anything else or hear anything call me back at the same number and ask for Matty."

"Ok." Matty sat back. She could not come up with any good reason for Mac and Riley to be gone without his phone. She leaned forward and hit Riley's speed dial. It went to voice mail three times. Matty dialed the cabin's emergency number near where Bozer and Jack were training. Nothing. Matty stood up and went into the war room to track down her agents.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Riley parked the bike and crept closer to the airfield. A thick wall of grasses as high as her shoulders hid her from sight. She crept closer and found a curled up opening in the fence. She pushed her back pack through then crept through following it. She winced as her hair caught on a sharp edge of the cut fence.

The airfield was in surprisingly good shape for its abandoned status. Evidently no one other than the CEF came out here. She pulled a small pair of fold up binoculars out of her bag. She could see the nose of a silver shiny plane. Since there were no other planes that had to be it. She didn't see any signs of the limo. Riley pushed herself to a low crouch and sprinted forward. She didn't see anyone in the hangar. She actually reached the rear wheel of the plane before two people came into the hangar. Crouched low she couldn't see their faces, but one was in a white captain's uniform and the other was a woman wearing blue pantsuit. Riley perked up her ears, they were arguing, or venting.

"That idiot wants us to fly right over that damned forest fire." The captain said.

"Can we do that?" The woman asked.

"We can fly around it, the heat and smoke...it's insane." They were interrupted by a phone ringtone. "Yes sir." Riley smiled from disgruntled employee to ass kisser in under twenty seconds. The smile vanished. Henry Travers must be something to inspire this fear. She put her fear aside and listened.

"Yes sir, we will be ready for lift off in fifteen minutes. Yes sir. Very good sir...I gotta go get preflight done, the boss will be here any minute."

"Wonderful." The woman said. The Captain moved over to the wall of the hangar which had several clipboards thick with paper fluttering in the breeze. The woman went up the short gang plank into the plane. It was now or never. Riley dashed toward the plane keeping an eye on the Captain who was bent over a clip board. She ran up the gang plank then stopped just inside the door. The cabin was big and ornate. Everything looked to be red leather and gold, probably actually brass-Riley amended. The woman was in the main cabin setting out a bottle of wine and several trays of snacks. Riley felt her mouth water, but shoved her hunger aside.

She looked across the aisle. Across from her was a tiny foot wide door. At the rear of the cabin was the door to the main bathroom. As big as Derick, Thing #1 and #2 where they would have to use that one. The tiny one Riley saw could only be for the crew. One last glance at the woman then Riley scooted across the red carpeted aisle and slid open the folding door. She slid in, pulling in her bag last. She shut the door and had to sit on the toilet as there wasn't any other space available.

Riley felt nauseous. The chemicals were strong and she couldn't put on the light to the tiny room. She was worried it would be indicated somewhere, the only light she had was the tiny crack at the bottom of the door and along the side of the door. She closed her eyes and dug through her pockets and bags turning off all of the notification alarms and ringers. She held onto her cell phone. She opened the flip door just enough to stick her hand out and pointed her camera at the main cabin. She could just make out a long couch with a swivel chair and two recliners across from it. Voices and steps were coming up the gangplank. Riley ducked back. Through the crack she could see Derek and the Thing brothers awkwardly carry Mac across the cabin. Riley bit her lip to keep from making a sound.

Mac looked terrible, and she had never seen that much blood outside of a living body before. They had taped a wad of towels to his side, but they were leaking through. Riley stuck out her phone. She hit record. They laid out the towels then dumped Mac on them with his bloody side up. Mac groaned and Riley could see a slight flash of blue eyes before they slid shut again and he was out. Riley ducked back and shut the door. She tapped in a quick message and sent the short movie, info about the CEF and info about where she thought they were going to Matty and Jack, she paused then shrugged, and sent it to Bozer too. She sat back and closed her eyes trying to ignore the cramped claustrophobic. She thought about leaving her phone lit, but suspected this was going to be a long, long ride. She needed to conserve its energy.

She heard the thud of the gangplank being pulled up, the engines whine louder than the rocking motion of take off. She was thrown against the side of the small space. She held her breath. The distant hum of conversation didn't die down so she leaned back and let out a long sigh. She frowned and held her head in her hands. She felt sick. Riley just thought about Mac bleeding out less than twenty feet from her and shook her head. Time to suck it up buttercup! As Matty normally would say. She felt the phone vibrate and looked at it with relief. It was a message from Matty. She went to open it, but it disappeared. The screen said that they were out of range for service. Riley frowned. She was on her own.


	4. Chapter 4

All of the energy in his body went into opening his eyes. Mac blinked. He felt like he was made out of spaghetti. He slowly looked around with his eyes. He felt more than heard a continuous roar and felt the...couch? He was on hum under his cheek. Plane. He took in the opulent reds and fake golds. He licked his mouth but it did little to add any moisture to his lips. He managed to move. Mac discovered he wasn't bound in any way and that his side, the one facing up ached like hell. Unfortunately, it was an ache he knew all too well. He managed to move his head and looked down wincing at the amount of blood soaking his shirt and the towel taped to his side.

"So you are alive, I was hoping you'd bleeded out by now." Mac looked up into the disappointed face of Derek Travers. Mac blinked confused wondering why he was alive. It's not like Derick was really subtle about his desire to kill Mac. Mac's eyes widened he looked around the cabin desperately. He let out a weak sigh, no Riley. He relaxed at least she was safe. Derick bent over him sloshing his glass of ice and what Mac thought was vodka. Derek shook his head and leaned back taking a huge gulp disgust on his face. "You have no idea how much I want to throw you out the door and watch you bounce." Mac raised an eyebrow. Bounce? From an airplane?

Derick's face contorted into rage when he saw Mac's expression. He took a step forward, only to be intercepted by the larger of his two bodyguards. Mac frowned. Curious, he thought, Derek wasn't in charge at all, someone held his leash. Mac tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. He coughed weakly. The guard turned to him and with surprising gentleness hauled him to sitting. He spoke to someone behind Mac. Mac's world was too busy blending around him for him to follow what was said.

A hand slapped his face, he blinked his eyes open. The man tipped a bottle of cold water to Mac's lips. Mac sucked it in feeling like a sponge being put in a bucket. He took a deep breath.

"Thanks." He whispered. The man gave no indication he heard, or cared just layed Mac down again. Mac looked over to see Derick sipping his drink. Mac's mouth quirked up at the corners. He wouldn't be surprised to see Derick chewing on that glass. "Where are we going?" Mac asked, his voice barely audible. Derick crossed his legs and looked out one of the plane's windows either ignoring him, or pretending he didn't hear him. Mac thought about sitting up, but decided there really would be no purpose to expending the energy. His eyes slowly sank closed.

Loud voices woke him up later. He frowned taking a minute to reorient himself. A thin Man in a white captain's uniform was waving his hands almost yelling at Derick.

"Are you crazy? We have to go back. That's a fucking forest fire out there, it's miles huge-you hear me miles!" Derick, now clearly glassy eyed smiled at the man.

"You have no choice, we are going to Haven." He said simply.

"We can't." The man put his hands across his chest. Derek sighed and pulled out a pistol, before either of the two body guards or Mac could shout a warning, Derick fired with predictable results. There was a thunk as the bullet passed through the captain, a pop as it passed through the side of the plane then a screaming hiss as the plane was immediately depressurized. Mac screamed and put hands over his ears to keep his eardrums intact. The plane began to list toward the side with the bullet hall. Mac looked around him and saw a silver tray. He gasped feeling like he was in the squeezing, painful end of a vice as he forced himself to roll forward stretching to get it. He just got it in his hands when the plane suddenly lost altitude. Mac found himself slammed against the roof of the cabin.

A second later he dropped barely conscious to the carpet. He reached out for the tray with a shaking bloody hand but was unable to reach it. He looked around the tilting cabin and saw one of the bodyguards kneeling a few feet in front of him. It was the man who had given him water. Mac yelled. The man was dazed and blood was pouring from his ears. Mac moaned in pain and forced his arms to wave. The man slowly looked at him. Mac pointed at the tray and the hole in the wall. He kept repeating the motion until the man nodded and crawled over to the tray.

Mac gasped desperately trying to suck in air. Between the pressure dragging him toward the hole in the wall and the fire of agony ripping through his entire torso, he counted every breath a triathlon victory. He saw the man push himself up to the bullet hole then smack the silver tray over it. The pressure suctioned it to the wall and everything seemed to fall to the floor at once. Mac managed to roll over. The air was painfully thin in the plane, but at least there was air. He gasped and looked over. Derick was sprawled in his chair his head back. Mac was only mildly ashamed of himself for hoping the man's neck had snapped.

Audibly wheezing the body guard came over to Mac and lifted him, dragging him forward toward the cockpit. Mac felt his eyes rolling back in his head, almost ready to pass out.

"I...ca...can..t fly…" He babbled weakly. Either the man didn't hear or didn't care, he plopped Mac down in the copilot's seat. Mac fought to push himself upright. He closed his eyes and looked over. The other body guard was in the pilot's seat, he was barely holding the plane steady. He looked over at Mac with eyes wide with terror. Mac shook his head and slumped forward trying to read the gauges and labels of knobs in front of them. He felt like he was trying to count snowflakes in a blizzard. His eyes did find one good thing, the autopilot was still on. Mac dragged him up into his seat and slowly tightened the seats harness around him snuggly. It would help keep him upright in the seat at least. He glanced over and saw the copilot's emergency air mask. He blinked at it then slowly grabbed it and turned it on. He breathed in deeply.

His brain seemed at least a little clearer. He glanced over and saw the body guard pilot was doing the same thing. The man looked over at Mac and nodded with gratitude. Mac shook cold sweat off his brow.

"Don't thank me yet." He murmured to himself. Jack had insisted on him learning the bare essentials of flying, and he certainly knew the physics behind it, how hard could it be? He looked forward, his eyes even wider. Before him was a wall of flame and black smoke. He reached out and grabbed the stick pulling back on it. He hadn't realized they had dropped that low, or was the fire that high? Mac didn't really care he just didn't want to cook like a marshmallow. HIs arms shook and he howled in pain, he could see out of the corner of his eye the pilot trying to do the same thing. The nose edged up, but caused a lot of drag. Mac felt the plane list again and figured the makeshift plug in the cabin had fallen off. He closed his eyes as they were suddenly in the black plume of the fire. Sweat ran freely down Mac's body, accompanied no doubt by blood. Then they were directly over the fire. Mac looked down and closed his eyes to keep from screaming in terror.

The fire seemed to extend in every direction, a blistering, twisting savage living thing tearing down and destroying everything it touched. Mac opened his eyes all sorts of dials and lights were on. He paused thinking. He reached over and turned off the autopilot. He could feel the other two men watching him as if he were insane. Forgetting about the air mask, he tried to give him a reassuring smile. He put out the flaps on the plane angling them for more lift. He set the tail fin straight ahead and aimed into the fire just below the smoke. Instantly the plane was caught in the wavy thermal of the hottest part of the fire. Mac dropped the fuel tank, covered his head and braced for a huge explosion.

Mac wasn't disappointed. Luckily he had timed it almost perfectly. The dump was fast enough to hit the fire without leaving much of a vapor trail to the plane. It was enough to start the starboard motor on fire and Mac could smell burning plastics and smoke coming from the cabin. The increase in heat caught under the flaps and shot the airplane straight up. The harness slammed Mac back to the seat. Everything went black for a second, or a year. Mac wasn't real sure. He looked out to see that they were out of the range of the inferno below. He shook his head and wiped at sweat or blood, he then angled the flaps and tail fin to put them in a steep, but hopefully survivable angle heading to the ground. Mac sank back. He glanced over. The pilot was unconscious in his harness. The other body guard had strapped himself in the navigator's chair, his head lolled side to side. Mac looked out relieved to see a fuzzy blanket of pine trees in front of them rather than fire. Mac's eyes closed and he slumped hanging unconscious from the harness.

Riley moaned slowly opening her eyes. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. The chemicals of the toilets had splashed all over her. They stank and almost made her puke. Especially since somehow she was sitting on the ceiling and the toilet hung above her. She had been dozing off when suddenly she was thrown into the ceiling then smashed against the toilet. Dazed she had then been slammed against the door causing it to bow outward. Then Riley thought she had been hit by the toilet again...regardless everything had painfully faded to black.

Riley moaned as she tried to figure out which way was up. The door was almost bent completely off its frame. She braced her back against the wall above, or as it was now, below the toilet and kicked out. Riley howled in pain as all sorts of bruises, pulls and other agonies protested. The door bowed out more. She painfully thrust out three more times before the flap door was loose enough on the corner for her to push out. She staggered falling on her knees. Riley wiped her forehead and frowned when she saw it was dark with blood. She winced and crept along the curved roof of the plane. She blinked. In the main cabin was the attendant laying staring up her neck almost completely ripped off. Riley coughed as she got a whiff of smoke. She glanced out the window and saw a long path behind the plane, behind this part of the plane, filled with broken trees, and fire. She opened her backpack, which somehow she had managed to hold onto and pulled out her phone. She swore, of course no barrs. She looked at her computer and almost cried. It was broken into pieces she doubted Mac could fix.

She crawled her way forward and winced. The wings and most of the tail was gone, the cabin appeared to be intact. She fought the door and managed to open it enough to peep in. No one was there but there was a lot of blood splattered everywhere. The windows had been shot then broken out. Glancing over she realized the plane had landed almost on top of the gangplank, out the windshield was the only way to get out.

Riley crawled back the way she came. She dumped out the bits of her computer, tossed in her phone. She found a drink fridge that had several bottles of water and a couple of vodka. She smiled, loading up on water. Crumpled in a pile in one of the broken cabinets she found a pound of sandwich meats and Twinkies, lots of Twinkies. She shook her head and scooped up both. She then crawled toward the cockpit. Riley grunted in pain as she slowly moved a pile of debris away until she could use one of the fake gold rails as a lever to pry the door open enough for her to duck through. She sat and breathed hard a minute. Then she scooted the bag through, then herself. The plane front windows were small, she could barely slide her bag through. She wormed herself through and yelped as she tumbled off the rounded nose onto the ground below.

Riley laid there gasping. The sky above her was dark with smoke. She could smell woodsmoke mixed in with burnt plastic and metal. She sat up and winced. She'd landed in a pool of blood. She stood up and wiped off as much as she could. Looking at the volume of blood, Riley felt her heart thud. Was it Mac's? She hadn't seen him inside, did he land the plane then fall out and…? Riley scanned the area around her. She didn't see any bodies. She closed her eyes grateful for that at least. She did see a drag trail lined with stripes of blood heading away from the plane. Riley set herself. She put the bag on over her shoulders and glanced around her once. The sky was getting darker. She didn't know if it was regular nightfall or thickening smoke from the oncoming forest fire. Riley grimaced and painfully began to follow the trail. She refused to concentrate on what might happen. Mac had drilled that into her head when she'd gone through wilderness training. Stop and think, work with what you have, worrying about what you don't or what you want only wastes time and energy.

Riley pulled out a water bottle sipping it as she set herself a fast, but reasonable rate. When she finished the bottle she dropped it and started on the next. She felt guilty for littering but she figured it was always nice to leave breadcrumbs when you're lost in the woods.

Bozer was almost dried off as they approached the small log cabin the Foundation used as the base of its wilderness training projects. He was smiling, it was a beautiful day out and he had been promised a nice shower. Jack strolled beside him. He'd made the pace a little easier. Jack had to admit he did feel guilty about the whole family puma thing. He had scouted ahead of Bozer but had somehow missed the panther tribe. Jack sighed. The guy was safe and would have a good story to tell, he supposed. Jack hoped that Mac would see it in that light.

Jack knew something was wrong as soon as he entered the cabin. The huge panel of flashing lights over the bank of emergency radios was a big giveaway.

"Dammit." Jack muttered. He felt a familiar pit in his stomach, he knew it was about Mac. It always made him nervous not being with Mac every time they leave on a trip, but he was going to a kid's science fair!

Jack picked up the largest sat phone and dialed Matty's direct line. She answered on the first ring and before Jack could get out a syllable she was rattling off all she knew about what was going on in Seattle and now in the air somewhere over Canada.

"Have we tracked the plane?" Jack asked, barely contained anger and worry in his voice.

"We can't the satellite is blocked from the smoke of the forest fire. We have an approximate area from the info Riley sent us but we haven't heard anything since…."Matty trailed off. Jack straightened his heart catching.

"Matty?" There was a long silence then Matty said.

"Mac's been shot." Jack suddenly felt like the air whooshed out of the room.

"He's been shot before." Bozer said sharing a panicked look with Jack. They could almost hear Matty taking a steadying breath.

"We sent you the video files Riley sent us, they should be up online there." Jack nodded. He didn't move to see them.

"Alright, we need exfil."

"I already have a blackhawk headed your way. When you get to Seattle…"

"Negative, Matty, negative. I'm going to Canada!" Jack growled.

"Me too." Bozer added at his elbow. Jack looked down his eyebrow raised in a question. Bozer nodded. Jack could see the man's fear, but also a steely determination. Jack patted him on the shoulder. "We need to get as close as we can to this Haven."

"Jack the fire…"

"Is irrelevant. We are going Matty and that's all there is too it." Matty was silent a minute.

"Alright tell me what you need."


	5. Chapter 5

Mac woke up and blinked in bleary surprise. The last thing he remembered was crashing a plane, then there were vague images of a fight, the gun firing and climbing out of the small plane window and a fall. He frowned. He thought that the fight had been between the body guard that had been in the pilot seat and Derick, who unfortunately had not broken his neck. Mac didn't remember hitting the ground or what happened after that.

Mac slowly took in his surroundings and felt more surprise. He was in a plain bedroom, on a bed. The walls were shedding green and silver wall paper like that Mac had seen in old color photos of Gramps early houses, 1950's? The floor was plain hardwood and there were obvious spider webs in the corners. Beside him was a simple army cot that had been placed on a platform to sit higher than the bed he was laying on. Mac frowned. Discarded on the bed was a bowl containing bloody yellow tubing and bandages. He looked down inside his left elbow was the evidence of an IV site. He ran his hand along his abdomen. He felt a thick swath of cloth bandages wrapped around his torso. He also noted he wasn't wearing anything but his boxers.

Mac slowly sat up moaning in pain. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Considering his situation, he actually didn't feel that bad. Mac slid his knees over the side of the bed and rubbed his face. His side hurt like hell, but someone obviously had given him a transfusion. He wasn't dead so he figured it had worked. Mac stood up and had to catch himself on the peeling wall. He took steadying breaths then slowly shuffled out of the windowless room.

There was a short hallway leading to a functional bathroom, which he made use of. He washed his hands and face. There wasn't a mirror or shower. Mac decided he really didn't want to see what he looked like anyway. Walking back down the hallway, he entered a living room, or what probably been a living room. There were bunk beds along every wall and two chests of drawers back to back in the center of the room. Beside them was a card table full of well worn books-well not books exactly more bound xeroxed copies of the same book. Most were highlighted and dog-eared.

Mac's eyes widened as he flipped through them. It was like reading notes from a combination acid trip and anti-government rant. There were lots about the holiness of fire and new age mumbo jumbo pseudo-science. Mac shook his head then had to steady himself by holding onto the dresser. After a minute, he opened a drawer. Inside the drawers were piles of identical shirts and pants. All were obviously home made. Mac sorted through until he found shirts and pants that looked like they fit.

Mac smiled. He sure wouldn't be winning any fashion awards, but he had to admit they were comfortable. They were the color of bleached natural fibers, cotton he guessed, woven tightly. Mac looked closer, the weave was too tight to be woven by hand, but certainly not by machine. He was no expert, but if he had to guess he thought they had to be made by looms similar to those in the 18th century. He frowned tying the simple woven leather belt. The pants were a little short and he swam in the shirt, but the material was light and cool.

Under the card table were organized rows of homemade wooden sandals with woven leather matching the belt. Mac shrugged. Better going barefoot, he frowned after slipping on a pair his size. The wooden soles had no give and the leather immediately chafed at his feet. He'd be fine, but he didn't think he'd be walking or running very far in them. He swayed again. Not that he was up to either anyway.

He crossed to a half aluminum, half glass door that opened with a loud screech. Mac winced. He found himself on the street of a small town. Identical bungalows to the one he'd woken up in stretched along either side of the street. Raising high above behind the small town were gleaming gray cliffs. Mac stepped outside wincing at the sunlight. He stepped down a small cracked cement staircase then had to hang on a simple silver railing. Mac closed his eyes and wiped sweat from his forehead.

At one end of the street to his left was a group of three huge quonset huts. One was open and he could make out machinery in it. He was too far away to see what kind it was. Possibly the looms? At that end two of the bungalows looked newer than the others. He could see large freshly painted squares of siding leaning against the walls which looked half done. The one beside that was already renovated. The other bungalows were in rough shape. Some had windows boarded up or broken. A couple had doors missing an misshapen trees poking out through the roof and windows.

The other end of the street ended at a pond. Mac covered his eyes. He could almost see the other side, it seemed artificially round. A half fallen rusting fence blocked it with rusting chains over a double door. There was a guard tower that had all it's windows out and the door half hanging off.

There was something eerie about the place, something dead. The air didn't move. Mac felt like he was suffocating, like he could reach out and touch the moisture that hovered around him. Mac squinted up the cliffs. He didn't see any trees along the tops of the cliffs. Judging by the evergreen forest he'd crash landed in, he guessed he was somewhere north, maybe Canada. Still there was just a wrongness that made him cringe. He stood up, holding onto the railing.

He didn't see any people, where were they? The sky above was a dirty blue covered by black lace clouds. Mac frowned. They were definitely from a fire, was it the forest fire? He looked down at the pond. Would that be a way out? He slowly walked in that direction. He held his side as he walked. It ached with every movement.

His sandals cloped like horse hooves. In the still deserted town, it was a sad, lonely sound. As he neared the lake he put his hand against his nose. The pond was still, not a ripple. Like everything it was dead. It stank of rotten flesh and fried electrics. Mac winced. There was a cross street in front of the fence lined by more abandoned bungalows. Mac turned and started shuffling back the way he'd come.

Mac wiped sweat and could feel sweat building around the thick wad of dressings pooling at the bottom of his spine. His feet began to slide in the sandals, making him wince as he felt skin burn that would turn into impressive blisters. He paused leaning on his knees to catch his breath and allow his sore side a rest.

Mac looked up. He couldn't see the sun and the place had a surreal stillness. There were no birds, no wildlife, nothing living as far as he could see...but he knew people were around here somewhere. He straightened wincing as his side flared with protest. He kept glancing around him. He felt like eyes were watching every move. Mac frowned. He felt like he was an ant being fried by a mean kid's magnifying glass.

He stopped and stood up straighter, listening. He thought he heard screams. Mac frowned and sped up his pace. As he neared the Quonset huts he saw that like the other end of town there was a cross road, making the town a big "H". Along this street to his left was a dirt road that curved out of sight heading to the cliffs. 4 wheelers and mopeds were lined up along the side of that street. Mac guessed that somehow that road led up to the cliffs. Along the other road was rows of plants in terraced gardens. Like everything else in this canyon, they were withered and dead. Far beyond that, Mac could just about make out some sort of stone building with a group of people sitting on a pack dirt field watching smoke rise from the top of the building.

As if he wasn't creeped out enough, they were silent, unmoving. From the array of different sizes, he guessed they were entire families. Mac's hairs rose as another scream came. By the echo off of the stones around them, Mac guessed it came from inside the stone building. Mac felt a pull of curiosity and concern, but rationality stomped them down. He turned and walked over to one of the 4 wheelers. It was not chained and the keys actually hung from its ignition. Mac frowned. This was actually more unnerving than the creepy town.

He had been shot and kidnapped, but left unbound and actually given medical assistance. Mac felt a cold knuckle run up his spine. He wasn't sure what these creepy folks wanted from him, but he sure didn't want to find out. Mac gasped as he quickly saddled the 4 wheeler. He kicked off his sandals and in seconds had the bike turned and was revving along the dirt road away from the town.

Mac knew there was no way they had not heard him, and the engine was too loud for him to hear pursuit. He opened the throttle. Mac grimaced as every bump and turn pulled at his side. The road went for a quarter of a mile. It ended in a round open area that had rusting mining equipment and parts of land moving equipment piled around the edges. The center had a deep tread of tire marks showing many vehicles came here, then turned around the way they came. Mac killed the engine and gingerly got off. Holding his side he looked at the cliff face in front of him. He could see a tall narrow staircase that looked to be roughly carved into the rock face itself and beside it, again built into the rock face, was a wooden platform with thick chains on a complicated pulley system.

Mac shaded his eyes as he looked at it. It was pretty damn clever and well engineered. Mac wasn't sure if he could come up with a better system for a heavy duty elevator.

"Hello, Beloved, how may I serve you?" A soothing timid voice said behind him. Mac whirled around and almost fell to one knee. Strong hands caught him and helped him back up to his feet. He looked up into the eyes of the last remaining body guard. MacGyver frowned, after caring for him on the plane and apparently saving his life from Derek he really should learn the man's name.

"We really have to stop meeting like this." Mac said. The man smiled. Mac was surprised to find it a friendly and warm smile. The man and the woman beside him were both dressed the same as Mac. Mac realized it was the woman who had spoken. She had straight dark hair in an uneven short style. She had a winning smile and was well tanned with a bevy of freckles scattered on her cheeks and nose.

"Beloved, how may we serve you?" The woman repeated. Mac frowned. The way they both looked at him made him squirrel. It was a combination of blind devotion and the kind of love a super star would get out of his fans.

"I'd really like to leave." Mac said. The woman's smile disappeared.

"I'm truly regretful, Beloved, but it is not yet time for you to leave. Are you hungry?" Mac licked his lips.

"I'm thirsty." He admitted. The woman bowed and turned back to the open area. Mac's eyes widened. His 4 wheeler was gone. He hadn't heard it turn on, so it must have been dragged away somehow, silently. Mac rubbed his arms. He was now ultra creeped out.

"I am Michael, Beloved, I am your Minder." The bodyguard said. Mac looked up at him.

"My guard?"

"Of course not, Beloved, you are not a prisoner. You are Father's only child, we are all at your command." Mac's eyebrows almost threatened to leave his head.

"What? What are you talking about?" He held up a hand, "Nevermind, if I'm not a prisoner, then why can't I leave?"

"It is not yet time, Beloved." Michael said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Mac felt the world begin to wave in front of him like heat on tar, or a mirage. He felt himself list to the side. He blinked as the world suddenly tipped and spun. He blinked and found himself being easily carried in Michael's arms like a baby.

"You can put me down." Mac growled.

"It is my pleasure to serve you, Beloved." The man said. Mac tried to push out of the man's grip, but he had arms like logs and a chest like a boulder. Mac hugged in frustration. With the rhythmic gait, hot air and exhaustion, Mac felt the world fade, his head fell against Michael's chest and his body went limp.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Riley paused and set her pack down. It was almost empty. She drained the last of the water and ate the last of the warm cold cuts. She sat down in the shade of a huge evergreen and breathed in the pine scented air deeply. Birds twittered nervously. Riley frowned. If it wasn't for the fact that Mac was in front of her wounded and there was a gigantic forest fire speeding toward her, this would be a nice hike in the woods.

She took her phone out of her bag. The charge was almost gone, but she had one tiny bar of coverage!

"I'll take it." She muttered. Quickly she dialed Matty's personal line. In a second she was connected to her boss. Riley fought back tears.

"R….y? Wh….u?"

"Matty, I'm up in Canada, there's a forest fire and Mac needs help." Riley blurted this even though she knew she'd already told this to Matty. She was so glad to hear from help. She took a deep breath, thinking furiously. She began to write out a text describing the airplane crash site and where it was in relation to the forest fire. She hit send just as her phone died. "Damn it!" Riley hissed. She had no idea if her message had been sent or not. She took a couple of deep breaths and set herself. Riley was on her own. She could do this, she'd been basically on her own most of her life, right? Riley almost bought her own pep talk. She looked at the phone. She put it in her pocket but left the empty pack behind. If working with Mac had taught her anything, it was you never knew the benefit of cell phone pieces. Besides, she told herself, maybe there would be somewhere to charge it.

Without the weight of the pack she made better time. The faint drag trail ended. She kept walking in the general direction it headed in. Riley knelt. She saw what looked like golf cart wheel tracks. She followed them surprised to come upon a two grooved well worn trail. Riley shrugged and started walking in one of the worn down tire grooves.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Jack paced like a lion. Bozer sat dejected slumped in an uncomfortable chair. They had been camped out in the regional office of the RCMP, and the Mounties did not see the situation as a situation requiring speed. The best Matty could do was have them flown into the closest outpost in the Northern Territories. There was nobody fighting this fire. They all took the big philosophical view of it's nature's natural processes and no one was in danger.

Jack had gone through the entire outpost demanding to talk to the next person in charge. When he hit Captain, the man behind the desk who's sagging eyes and jowls reminded Jack of a Basset hound, listened politely and kindly sympathized but said that as there was no evidence anyone survived the crash, there was no reason to go wasting resources. When asked about Haven, the Captain had harumffed, then sent Jack and Bozer to the waiting room. Jack growled and glared at his watch. That had been three hours ago.

A woman in the traditional red jacketed Mountie uniform poked her head through the door connecting the waiting room to the rest of the building.

"Will you come with me?" She said. Jack grinned.

"Oh hell yes." He said. The mountie frowned at him, but didn't say anything. She led them back to a tiny office that had a chair facing a desk lost beneath piles of folders. A small fan rattled in the upper corner of the room. There were no windows or vents and the walls were covered with charts. Behind the desk sat a tall thin man with a beard that would have made Paul Bunyan blush. More than that, his hair and beard were bright orange, almost like fire. The man looked at Jack with rheumy serious eyes the shade of palm leaf. He stood. He wore a simple plain black T shirt with simple black jeans. Jack raised an eyebrow and smiled. The man stood and held out his hand. He had the hunched bulk Jack had seen in almost every firefighter he'd ever met.

"I'm Freddy Flint." The man said. His voice was deep and seemed to echo from his boots up. It was seasoned with a rolling French accent.

"Jack Dalton, this is Bozer." Bozer waved a hand, his eyes wide at the man. The man turned and came around the desk. Bozer and Jack had to back into the hallway to make room for him. After the stuffy office, the open hallway felt like a vacation.

"I'm the head of the 101 airborne Smoke Jumpers for the Northern Territories." He said. Jack nodded. The man seemed to speak slow and deliberate, but there was a sense of something coiled inside that could spring out if needed. "I listened to your report and I'm sorry I can't dedicate any official resources to tracking down your friends." Jack smiled.

"And unofficial." The man smiled and handed Jack an address written on a crumpled piece of paper. Jack glanced at it and looked up surprised.

"Oliver Flint?" He asked. The man grinned.

"My Dad."

"Dad?" Bozer choked, he ducked when Freddy glared at him.

"Yeah, he's officially retired, but he has a small volunteer squad."

"And you think he'll help us?" Freddy shrugged.

"He's old, bored and crazy as a loon so probably, it's the best you're going to get." Jack grinned.

"We'll take it!"


	6. Chapter 6

Night had almost fallen by the time Riley had come to the cliffs above the canyon. She laid flat and squinted down trying to figure out what exactly she was looking at. She had scene satellite photos of Haven and historical pictures from the time the ghost town had been a functioning mining community. Now it looked like some archeological dig, if the dig was excavating creepy ancient towns. Far below her was a sort of castle made out of broken up chunks of concrete and rebar. It reminded Riley of a sandcastle half washed away. It was about the size of two of the bungalows and had a huge round chimney in the center of it's shingled roof.

Riley wrinkled her nose. She had followed the black smoke to the cliff. She had heard screams, definitely human but beyond male or female in the depth of their torment. It was a sound that once heard can never be unheard. Riley shivered. She licked her lips. There was also a horrible smell that seemed to coat the back of her throat. It smelled like burnt hair and dead animal. Riley fought to keep from gagging. There had been a group of people in simple hippie wear that sat cross legged and unmoving as the screams crescendoed then gurgled away. After a gong had sounded they all rose silently and filed out of the dirt open area.

Even babies that normally would be squirming or crying made no noise. Riley wasn't close enough to see their faces, but they all seemed to have the same body language, the same clothes and haircuts. If Riley had any doubt that she was looking at a cult, they were gone. Riley stood up. Torches and hand held lamps were the only lighting in the settlement below. As the sky became more draped in blackness, the shadowy places seem to come alive like Jack the Ripper hunting Whitechapel. Riley shivered in the hot, stale air.

Scanning the top of the cliff she saw ahead of her along the primitive road, a zigzagging path that seemed to lead down to the canyon floor. Riley gulped. It was no more than 6 inches and led to a steep drop off. Taking a steadying breath, Riley climbed on and slowly half slid, half climbed her way down. Riley often teased Mac about his fear of heights, especially since he always seemed to be jumping off something, or flying out of somewhere. She totally owed him a heartfelt apology.

The floor of the canyon was completely dark. Riley let out a yelp that was almost scream when she fell off the ledge only to find herself falling a couple of feet to packed dirt. She layed there breathing hard waiting for the blind panic to settle. Luckily no one seemed to be nearby, or if they were they weren't really worried about visitors. She rolled to her feet. She could see bright torches placed around the stone building, some sort of temple she guessed. Inside the temple flickering flames lit misshapen windows and an open doorway. It looked like a really evil Jack O'Lantern.

By the dim light she slowly picked her way towards the building. The canyon was so quiet even from far away that Riley could hear the snap and rustle of the torches as she approached. She paused but saw no outside movement. She crept to the open doorway and peeked in. Her eyes widened and she darted back, covering her mouth and trying not to puke. She found out what the smell was-burned flesh. In the center of the misshapen room was a huge fire pit. In the center of the fire pit was a cage, in the cage a melted twisted black corpse. They had burned someone alive.

Riley breathed through her mouth forcing herself to remain calm, or at least not give into a total freakout. She braced herself for another, longer look. She had to know if it had been Mac or not, if she could. She peeped around the edge and studied the corpse. Since the skin had been melted and carbonized the features were unrecognizable, but the body was too tall, to broad at the shoulders to be Mac. Riley ducked back letting out a relieved gasp. She crept along the wall.

Riley had almost turned around to the front of the building when she stopped hearing low murmuring. She peeked around the corner. An older man, with a dark shadow on his head, soot? Whiskers? Dressed in a toga that looked like gold satin, was standing before the front open doorway.

He looked like burnt beef jerky. Before him Thing #1 knelt.

"How is my Son?" The man asked in a hoarse whisper. Riley wondered if he had been caught in a fire himself at some point.

"The Beloved rests. His wound is healing well, though he is warm to the touch." The older man put a hand on Thing #1's head.

"She calls to him, Michael."

"Yes, Father."

"Soon...soon she will be here and we will all leave, we will all follow my Son to the After." The man spoke in a hypnotic hissing voice. Riley felt the pit of her stomach, did they mean Mac? She thought of the caged burn victim and felt her spine chill. Were they going to sacrifice Mac? Thing #1, Michael stood, bowed then backed away vanishing into the blackness as if he were part of it. The older man looked up to the sky and breathed deep a beatific expression on his mangled face. Riley went to creep closer, but froze and crouched as a familiar figure striding out of the dark.

Derek Travers. Riley frowned. She had so hoped he'd been in the part of the plane that had vanished in the forest fire. He was immaculately dressed in another tailored suit. On one hand it was nice to see a reminder that there was a world outside of this creepy canyon, on the other it was so out of place it made Riley feel disjointed somehow.

"Father!" Derek said. The older man's face went blank.

"I have heard of your activities in the World, Derick and I am not pleased. Why did you try to destroy my Son?"

"He is not your son, I am!" Riley's eyes widened. The pictures she had seen of Henry Travers made him look like a kind if eccentric grandfather. Obviously whatever had mutated him into this...had sent him well around the bend. He glared at Derek with a look that Riley had seen in documentaries about serial killers.

"He has my blood flowing through his veins…"

"Because you gave him a transfusion!" The man sighed and shook his head.

"Derrick, when will you see? Our Beloved has returned to us, just as our Lady comes to bring us to the After."

"Father, why do you always choose MacGyver over me? Ever since we were kids...I might as well have never been born." The elder Travers walked past Derick.

"You may be the son of this body, but MacGyver is the son of this Flame. The Lady brought him back to us as she strides upon her earthen sled." Derek stared at the man, and Riley could see his eyes gleaming, but she couldn't tell if it was tears of hurt or hate. Derek turned to follow his father as they strolled off toward the silent village.

"Father, it wasn't destiny! I set a trap…"

"And corrupted one of us to blow up an inconsequential building. When judgement comes it will be on the fiery horses of the Lady…" The voices trailed away as they vanished into the blackness. Riley crept forward and slowly followed the sound of their clopping sandals. Her shoulders twitched and she looked back. The temple behind her looked like some hunched Titan ready to rise out of the ground and start breaking the world. Riley refused to be creeped out, but she did find herself walking faster.

The small street of bungalows had silent people moving along the middle of the street carrying torches. Riley crept close to the buildings and stayed in the shadows, but the people moved like automatons looking neither right or left. Even the small babies didn't make noise when they turned and looked curiously in her direction. Riley ducked back into the shadow between two bungalows wincing as her boots crunched glass. No one turned to look at her or break their routine. She breathed out in relief.

Michael flanked on either side by two women with identical rough haircuts held torches more bright than the others. Michael carried a tray that had four bottles of water and a covered plate of food that made Riley's mouth water. She crept behind them. If they revered Mac then this was probably headed his way. Riley hid as the two women turned and flanked the door as the door screeched open and Michael disappeared inside. Riley's heart pounded and she smiled. She heard a murmur of voices and one was Mac's. Riley waited impatiently. It seemed to take forever before Michael came back out and he and the two women made their way back the way they came.

Riley crept forward. No one seemed to be close. She slowly opened the door, wincing at the slow squeal as it opened. She stepped inside and paused. Her eyes widened. She found herself in a living room full of bunkbeds where she could easily see people sleeping in each one. They slept as silently as they lived. From somewhere in the house Riley could see the familiar flickering light. She walked slowly wincing at every tiny floor squeak. No one moved. She breathed out in relief as she followed the glow to a small bedroom.

"Mac!" She hissed happily as she came around the corner and saw Mac sitting on the bed leaning his back against the wall. He looked up and his jaw sagged open, he grinned.

"Riley!" He stood up as Riley went and hugged him. She froze when she heard him hiss in pain and felt him sway. He stepped back clearly dizzy. Gently she pushed him back to sitting. She frowned and put the back of the hand against his sweaty forehead. "Is Jack with you?" Riley shook her head.

"Mac, you have a hell of a fever." She said softly. He looked up at her his mouth quirking in a smile she thought she'd never see again.

"It's been one of those weeks." He joked in a soft murmur. He glanced at the door. "What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay back."

"a) You waved angrily at me and b) hell no I won't stay back!"

"Riley, you have to get out of here." Mac demanded. Riley tilted her head. Mac huffed at her stubbornness. "Jack is going to kill me if something happens to you!"

"Well, what do you think he'll do if something happens to you?" Riley countered. They glared at each other. Finally Mac nodded, his shoulders sagging. He dipped his head and wiped his face. It was stifling in the room without windows and with the torches burning. "Why don't we both go." Riley hissed.

"I'll just slow you down." Mac protested. Riley ignored him and grabbed him by one arm. Mac staggered to his feet. Riley winced as she felt the full heat of his fever. He was trembling and was slick with sweat. Riley ducked under his arm, they made it all of five feet when Michael looked in the room. He looked at them with placid curiosity then smiled.

"Ah, Beloved your friend is here. We've been expecting her."

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Finding Oliver Flint's home was an effort in following deer trails, Jack thought as they drove their rental down a tiny rough dirt road. Bozer sat beside him and yelped as they went over a particularly big bump and cracked his head against the roof for the hundredth time.

"Jack, have you actually tried to avoid any bumps." Bozer growled. Jack spared him a glare.

"Look at this road, where exactly am I supposed to go to avoid them?" Bozer grunted as they were both thrown back in their seats. "Man, are you OK? You look a little green." He could feel Bozer's sour look.

"If I'm going to puke, it's going to be all over you! This is all your fault!"

"My fault? How is this my fault?" They were interrupted by a horrible shriek as a thick branch scraped the side of the rental. "Damn there goes my deposit."

"Why don't you ever get the insurance?"

"Why should I pay extra if we don't need it?" Jack replied.

"Jack, when the hell have we never needed it?" Bozer said in a raised voice, hissing in pain again as his head rapped against the roof of the SUV. Jack didn't answer focusing on the road as the SUV slithered around a sandy corner.

"Boy someone woke up on the wrong side of the campfire." Jack muttered.

"Are you fricking kidding me?" Bozer roared. The road switched to gravel and Jack was relieved. Over the pelting noise of the kicked up stone, he got to hear only part of the rant Bozer threw his way.

"...every rock...deer...frickin' cats...all your fault! And where in the hell did you learn to drive? My blind aunt drives better!" Bozer finished. Jack waited to make sure the younger man was done complaining. Jack had learned over the years sometimes people just needed to vent, usually when he was driving for some reason.

" On the bright side, I think you'll pass your wilderness training, if we survive." Jack said loudly.

"You THINK? I damn well better…" Jack tuned out the rest of Bozer's rant. He slowed, stopping at a cross road that was actually pave, but no wider. He glanced at the directions he'd written down. Even GPS didn't know where the hell they were. Jack had asked a camping outfitter back in Yellowknife.

"I think we're almost there." Jack said cracking his neck. He turned right. The road ended about a hundred feet later at a dirt driveway with a hand painted sign "Flint's" over head. Jack nodded, simple, direct. He liked it. He had to gun the engine causing the SUV's motor to growl and tires to spin as they climbed the steep curvy path. Eventually the path flattened out and then ended at a small dirt lot in front of a small cabin. Through the thick pine trees around them Jack could see the flashing lights that told of an airfield nearby. He heard the whine of a small plane landing.

"Oh my ass!" Bozer whined as he got out and stretched. Jack smiled and led the way up to a small set of stamps lit overhead by a single light. "Why aren't you hurting?" Bozer demanded. Before Jack pushed a small lit up doorbell. He grinned over at the long suffering, tired Bozer.

"Practice, dude. And I'm just that good." Before Bozer could reply, the door was opened by a man who could only be Oliver Flint. His son looked almost identical to him, except the elder Flint's hair had white streaks of hair that looked lightening streaming through his fire red hair. Instead of a bushy beard, the man had a classic mutton chop moustache.

"Dalton?" He rumbled. His voice had the same deep timber of his son, but a much more pronounced Quebec accent.

"Yes, sir." Jack answered, his voice held some of the deference he had learned in the military. This man carried himself in a way that commanded respect. The man held open the door and waved them in. Jack heard a loud yip of a dog. He looked down and saw a small dog, white with long perfectly brushed gleaming fur. The fur over it's eyes was held up by a bright red bow. Jack smiled and looked at Oliver with a raised eyebrow. Oliver chuckled.

"Pele was left behind when my youngest daughter went off to college in Honolulu." The man said. He led the way into a comfortable living room. The place was a shrine to firefighting with uniforms, pictures and relics from the 1800s to present, Jack guessed. He saw some familiar models of trucks like those from the states and many more he guessed were from other countries. The furniture was well worn leather. The tables were covered with stacks of papers, charts and magazines. There was no TV or chimney, but the far wall had a huge radio command center set up.

A pretty freckled blond turned and waved at them, then turned back to speak into a thick microphone, responding to something coming over her headphones.

"Penelope, my wife." Oliver said. He pushed aside some papers and waved Jack and Bozer to sit down. Pele was on Bozer's lap before he got settled. Bozer grinned up at Oliver and Jack and lost himself petting the little dog. "So tell me." The older man said. Jack leaned forward and laid it all out. By the time he'd finished. Penelope had turned in her chair and was listening, her earphones around her neck.

"You said you had something on your phone?" Jack nodded and pulled up what Matty had received from Riley. Oliver put on a pair of half rimmed spectacles and scrolled through it slowly. He handed it to his wife then reached over to pull out a thick rolled up chart. He unfurled it and looked over his specs at his wife. His wife nodded.

"Yeah, that's the northern burn. Looks like it'll be going right over that ghost town late tomorrow." He said.

"We have to leave now!" Bozer said sitting up enough for Pele to grumble a complaint and jump off his lap.

"Hold up, son. Let's think this through." Oliver said. "First that is a fast moving fire, there's no real predicting where it's going to go when with any accuracy. I've had spotters watching it, but they can only go through every four hours or so, the last one landed just as you were coming up so we'll see what she has to say."

"The town is in the middle of a canyon so unless firebrands directly land on something it's unlikely the town itself will go up." Penelope said.

"Great! Then they'll be safe." Jack said. Oliver frowned and removed his specs, his puffy eyes serious.

"Two problems, one the fire will suck the air out of that canyon, and that round lake beside them is tainted with mercury and cyanide runoff. One touch and you're dead. With the heat this fire's putting out, it'll probably boil down…"

"Poison gas." Bozer whispered. Jack shared the horror he saw on the other man's face.

"So we go in before the fire gets there?" Jack asked. Oliver stood up and paced, thoughtfully.

"Time is not on our side, we…"

"Hey Dad!" A tall lithe woman with a long ponytail of auburn hair walked in the room. She had on fire gear minus the tank and equipment. Jack flew to his feet. The woman looked at him, her Jade eyes amused. She held out a hand and Jack shook it surprised by the dry, callused strength. "I'm Lucy. Here's what Rudy pulled." She handed over a scroll of white paper. Oliver put his specs out and studied squiggles on the paper as he unrolled it. He breathed out and looked over his glasses at Jack.

"Good news the fire is getting smaller, mostly because it's running out of fuel."

"Great!" Bozer breathed.

"And it's travelling slower, bad news is the path of timber and wind tomorrow is heading directly to this Haven place." He frowned removed the specs and tapped his lips with the legs of his shades. "And we don't know if they're even alive." He finally added gently. Jack stepped forward a flash of anger in his eyes.

"You listen to me, they are alive! I don't know how you do things up here, but down south we got a saying I live by 'leave no man behind'. I aim to do that with or without you." Jack snarled. Bozer stood up, backing him up. Oliver stared at Jack then nodded.

"Ok, what the hell. Penny, get out a route, Lucy take Rudy and prep Elsa." The man turned to face Jack and Bozer. "You both have jump experience or fire experience."

"I was Delta." Jack said. Oliver Flint nodded impressed. He looked at Bozer who sighed and shook his head.

"Ok, you can stay and help Penny. We'll get everything ready for tomorrow before first light. You get some rest." He waved at Lucy and Lucy motioned for them to follow her. She led them out to a long bunkhouse in a building behind the house. Rows of basic bunks with rolled up mattresses lined each side of the building. Jack had seen similar bunks in some of the larger ranches in Texas. He guessed that no matter what Freddy had said, if a big enough fire broke out it was all hands on deck retired or not.

"Thanks." Bozer murmured. Lucy smiled at him, then at Jack then ducked out the way they had come in. Jack stood watching her leave. Bozer slapped him on the arm. Jack looked at him surprised.

"Seriously?" Bozer demanded.

"What?" Jack asked frowning. What the hell was up Bozer's butt now?

"You were totally checking her out! Flirting while Mac and Riley…"

"I was not." Jack said going over the closest bunk and unfurling the matress. He found basic sheets and personal items in a small bedside table with a lamp on it. Jack paused then shrugged, "If I was it was habit."

"Habit?" Bozer exclaimed. Jack shrugged and yawned. Bozer smiled and yawned. Then Jack yawned again.

"Will you quit that?" Jack complained. Bozer tried to talk around a yawn, Jack couldn't understand him and yawned again. They both flopped onto half made bunks and were soon snoring.


	7. Chapter 7

Before Riley could react, Mac pushed her behind him and stood in front of her. While Riley thought it was sweet, it irritated her a little. Did Mac think he would be much protection, especially in his current state? She was about to shove him back onto the bed, when she saw Michael come into the room, his face alarmed.

"Oh no, Beloved, we would never hurt one so dear to you!" Mac looked over his shoulder at Riley confused. He closed his eyes as the motion made the room spin. Riley steadied him. Michael almost leapt across the room to help Mac back into bed before he fell. "Steady, Beloved. What can I do to serve you?" Riley blinked at the genuine distress in the large man's voice. Mac sat up and wiped his sweaty forehead.

"I'm fine." He said softly. Riley reached out and steadied him into a sitting position letting his hot body lean against hers. She winced at the heat and the trembling she felt.

"Can we get some water? With ice and a couple of towels."

"And some food." Mac added. Michael bent, smiled and backed out of the room. Mac leaned forward his elbows against his knees. He took deep breaths. He looked over at Riley and smiled weakly. "That's the first time they agreed to bring ice or fresh towels." Riley's eyes widened.

"What? Why?"

"I think they want my fever to get worse. I asked them for tylenol or something and they, very nicely, very regretfully say it's not allowed because of something called the Joining." Mac wiped his wet forehead with a soggy sleeve.

"These people are sick!" Riley snarled. Mac nodded.

"At least they let you stay." Mac breathed, relief in his voice. Riley realized how awful it must have been to be hurt, feverish and stuck among these people who think you're what? A messiah? A sacrifice? She sat down beside Mac and put her arm around his shoulders. He nodded his thanks. "So what have you been up to in this beautiful vacation spot?" Riley told him everything that happened. He managed to tell his story before Michael and the two women returned. Michael nodded at the women and they disappeared. They returned quickly with a stack of towels and sheets for the cot and a change of clothes and pair of sandals for Riley. They set out a small '50s TV table, bowed and left. Michael eyed the room then checked Mac over from head to toe.

"Rest, Beloved. Tomorrow, Father will speak to you at breakfast." Mac nodded. Michael nodded at Riley then left. Riley peeked outside the door until they were gone. She ducked back in to find Mac staring at two plates of some sort of noodles. He wrinkled his nose and covered his back up. He closed his eyes as if he were going to be sick. He looked at Riley.

"I wouldn't recommend it for flavor. The water is filtered here, but it tastes terrible, but you should eat something."

"So should you." Riley said. Mac sighed and shook his head.

"I don't think I could keep it down." He admitted.

"Right." Riley made a decision. She looked at the bowl sitting on the cot full of discarded bloody tubing and glanced at Mac.

"Blood transfusion, evidently." He held up his left arm and she could see a red raised area with red lines radiating from it. She grabbed his arm. He hissed as she touched it. Riley's eyes widened in surprise.

"That's hot! Must be-"

"The source of the infection, yeah I think so too. I'm not surprised. Actually I'm surprised it worked this well." Mac closed his eyes and hung his head. Riley took the bowl and left it on the floor outside the door. She went back in and pulled the cot off of the platform. She moved it close to the door. It wasn't much, but there was slightly more air. She crept out past the creepy silent sleepers and opened the screen door.

Looking up and down the small street she saw a few cult members still walking up and down the sidewalks carrying torches. Guards, she guessed. A woman with the same savage cut as all the others came toward her. Riley cursed and stayed where she was. The woman smiled at her, her face looked eerily blank in the flickering torchlight.

"Are you well? Does the Beloved need anything?" She asked. Riley shook her head.

"No, just getting a little air." The woman tilted her head and gave a small bow, continuing along the sidewalk. Riley looked at the door, she pushed it past the hinges and it stayed open. She went back into Mac's room to find he had slumped over to the side. His eyes followed her, but he was fighting to stay awake. Riley patted his shivering shoulder. "It's ok, Mac." He nodded and tried to smile, but was too exhausted. His eyes drifted closed.

Riley turned and put the sheet on the cot and changed out Mac's pillowcase. They had given her four bottled waters and two glasses of ice. Not much. Riley shook her hair back and wiped her forehead. Even with the door open, the room was stifling. She lifted the torch and walked out in the hallway. By the bathroom door she found another holder and set the torch there. She returned to Mac's room and sighed. Without the torch the room was already cooler. In the hallway, the flickering light was just light enough for her to see. Riley frowned it gave the room an unreality that she found disturbing, as if she were looking through heat waves, or a dream. She shook her head.

"Mac?" She said softly, shaking him. His eyes shot open and she felt him tense. "Easy, it's me, Riley." She could see the frightened blue eyes stared at her confused, then he blinked and relaxed. He managed half of a smile. She smiled back at him. "Let's get you out of those clothes." Mac raised one eyebrow. Riley rolled her eyes. "C'mon." She reached down and hauled Mac to sitting. He swayed, but after a minute managed to support himself on trembling arms. Riley leaned in and helped him out of his sodden shirt.

Mac's tremors quickly became shivers. His teeth chattered. Riley undid the soggy towel around his torso and winced as some of the blood dried cloth stuck to Mac's wound. Mac hissed in pain as she poured a little water on it and pulled at it gently. Finally it came off. Riley smiled at Mac who was taking steadying breaths. Riley looked at the gunshot wound her eye raised. In the dim light, it looked like it had been sewn shut by a machine. It was reddened, but not as bad as the transfusion site.

"How bad?" Mac whispered. His eyes seemed to glow like the moon in the dim light.

"Not as bad as your arm. C'mon." She held out an arm. Mac reached out and held on as she lifted him to standing and supported him as he swayed. After he swallowed and nodded, she helped him over to the cot. He moaned as he layed flat. He panted a few minutes before relaxing and smiling up at Riley.

"Thanks…" Mac chuckled. Riley stared at him.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

"You might put Jack out of business…" Mac said trailing off holding his hand over his side and closing his eyes. Riley rolled her eyes, but found herself relieved that Mac could still laugh.

"We can debate that when he gets here and gets us out of here." Riley said. Mac didn't open his eyes, he only nodded. His eyes flew open when he felt her undo his belt. "It's alright, I just need to get you out of these pants. They're gross and have a bit of a funk." Mac closed his eyes. Riley wasn't sure if it was from exhaustion or embarrassment. She worked as quickly as she could until Mac was shivering in his boxers. Riley reached over for another sheet and covered him with it. She turned to the tray trying to figure out how to do what she wanted to do. She felt a hot hand grip her wrist and turned to see Mac's eyes looking up at her. She could tell he was using the last of his energy. She crouched down holding his hand in hers.

"What is it, Mac?" She said softly. His eyes danced with a bright light, Riley wasn't sure if it was from fever or tears.

"Promise me, if you get a chance to get out of here, you'll go with me or without me."

"Mac-"

"Promise! Please…" She held his hand in both of hers.

"I promise, but it won't come to that-" Mac sank back smiling. He reached up and touched her cheek.

"Thank you, Riley. You're a great friend...you...free…" She caught Mac's hand as it fell limply and his eyes sagged closed. She put it alongside him, bent and kissed his wet forehead.

"Dummy." She murmured. Riley knew that was a promise she was going to break. If they both didn't get out of this hell, neither of them would. She turned chewing on her lip. She went out into the hall and took the bowl into the bathroom and cleaned it under the hottest water that came out of the tap. She left the bloody tube and dressings behind. She filled the bowl up with the ice cubes and two of the water bottles. Riley fought the urge to dunk her own head in. She sat beside the cot and began to soak a small, clean towel into the water, then swabbed Mac's hot skin.

He breathed out, and turned toward the cold. Riley smiled. Mac was such a selfless person, it was nice to be able to help him for a change. She leaned him forward and swabbed his sweaty back. They might argue like siblings sometimes, and he drove her up the wall more times than she could count, but she had to admit, Jack just might be out a job. Riley smiled and eased Mac back.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

"Jack?" Jack snorted and jolted fully awake. He looked up into the well-lined face of Oliver Flint. Jack nodded and sat up. He blinked as he looked out the port window of the plane. He new that it was past daylight, because the sun had been peeping over the horizon when he'd awakened and gotten introduced to the entire team and educated on the gear he'd be hauling. With the asbestos suit, heavy steel soled insulated boots, oxygen tanks and mask he'd be hauling about 60lbs. He shrugged his shoulders placing the five water bottles, Oliver handed him in the circles for them on his pants. The gear felt strange and wrong, but the weight wouldn't slow him down, it really wasn't that much heavier than full tac gear. It was bulkier and harder to move in. He frowned when he was told he couldn't bring his gun, because the metal would get too hot and the ammo would cook off.

Jack shrugged. The team motto was improvise, right? The Flints had called in their full retired fire club, and family. Jack was surprised to see Freddy Flint walking toward him carrying his own gear. Jack grinned and pumped the man's hand.

"I thought you couldn't spare any resources?" He said. The man's eyes twinkled.

"Any official resources." He patted Jack on the shoulder, "I gotta go get shaved." Jack's eyes widened.

"The beard has to go?" The man laughed.

"It's ok in the office, but not in the middle of a forest fire." Jack felt his eyes tear up in gratitude. He was grateful to all of them, but it was the man's beard!" Seeing his sympathy, Freddy smiled. "Oh don't think such a thing, I'm really just trying to score points with my wife." Jack laughed.

"That should do it." Jack was relieved to have the man jumping in with them. The plan was for one plane to do a fire retardant run, to try to keep the fire back as long as possible. Jack, Oliver and now Freddy would be in a plane that would do one passover then jump as near as possible to the plane crash site and haul it to the canyon, or follow whatever other trail Mac or Riley might have left. Jack felt the Flints very obviously not point out the good chance that they were not able to leave a trail ever again, but Jack refused to believe that. He appreciated that even when they believed that was likely, they were still ready to go in for them.

After they found Mac and Riley and any of the Kooks that wanted to get away, On satellite they found that there was a long but narrow dirt road on the opposite bank of the small pond. They couldn't see close enough to know if there was a trail leading around the polluted water, or if it was even possible, but Rudy, their pilot, assured them he could land there. The rest of the team, seven grizzled veteran firefighters, eight younger active firefighters, and most of their wives, would land and set up base camp there, they would try to meet the others and help everyone back to the plane to get out of that hell.

Jack knew a billion things could go wrong, and knowing his and Mac's normal luck, would-but it was the best shot they had, and a small window to do it in. Jack blinked looking down at the vast wall of flame beneath them as they made their pass. It literally looked like a sea of fire, a living evil thing. He could see miles of black barren rubble left from the fire's wake.

"She's a lively one, isn't she?" Jack looked over at Oliver. The man's voice had a tone of respect and awe. Oliver saw him looking and smiled. "You have to appreciate the power of nature when she's on full bloom, Jack." His smile vanished, "Appreciate and respect, especially when she's being a bitch." Jack laughed and followed the man to the jump deck. He double checked his gear and felt Freddy check his back. Jack turned and did the same for Freddie. He looked at the other two and did triple check that everything was snug and snapped. They felt the plan bank as it pivoted in a gently sweep back toward the fire. Jack snapped down his goggles and attached his respirator. Oliver opened the side door and crouched. Jack moved to his spot behind him. He glanced over at Freddy who nodded at him.

Jack's heart thumped, no matter how many times he did this, he always felt the same adrenaline surging terror. He grinned embracing it. There was a buzz and a light flashed over the door. Jack let out a Texas whoop as he dove out of the plane and spread his arms and legs out. He winced, feeling the heat lick along his body seering any crevice that wasn't sealed. He knifed his body following Oliver's lead. They had leapt close to the fire, and had to use their air speed to get ahead of it quickly or else, Jack thought, they'd know how a steak felt on the grill.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Bozer smiled and threw the frisbee, the six red-headed kids yelled and chased it, trying to get it before Pele again beat them to it. Bozer looked up at the sky and shook his head. They'd only been gone two hours, and it was two hours to get to the fire...They could be jumping into that relentless inferno right now. Bozer closed his eyes and sniffed, fighting back tears.

Mac, Riley, Jack...they all might never come back. He took a deep breath and shook his head. He refused to accept that. Jack had tried to not wake him up, as if Bozer could sleep. Bozer had bounced out of bed, made breakfast for everyone, or helped he had to correct himself. Penny Flint had tried to include him in as much as the preparation and planning as she could because she knew how hopeless and useless he felt. Once the plane's were enroute, he had volunteered to keep the kids and grandkids busy so their folks could focus on bringing everyone home.

Bozer angrily wiped around an escaping tear and smiled as Pele again brought back the frisbee. Her whole body wagged in triumph even as her head kept turning as the frisbee dragged on the ground.

"C'mon kids, the dog's ahead by two!" Bozer plastered on a grin and shoved enthusiasm into his words. The kids squealed and they were off again. Bozer smiled sadly, even surrounded by all these amazing people he felt immensely alone. He'd hugged Jack. Jack had stiffened a second, like Mac normally did. Unlike Mac, however, the older man bent into it. Bozer had cried.

"It's ok, Boze, I'll bring them all back, I promise." Jack said softly. Bozer pretend-glared at him and punched him in the shoulder.

"You better!" He said. Jack smiled, before he turned to go. Bozer caught him in another hug.

"And you come back too." Bozer swore he saw tears in Jack's eyes before he put on those stupid yellow glasses of his (although if Bozer was truly honest, the former Delta did rock them.).

"Of course, I still have to finish our wilderness training."

"Hey! I thought you already passed me?" Bozer yelled. Jack waved without turning around. Bozer's sat phone ringing brought him back to present. He blinked not recognizing the number.

"Hello?" He asked. Only Phoenix knew this number.

"B...B...Bozer?" The crying girl's voice was easily recognized.

"Valerie? What's wrong? Are you ok?"

"N...no, I have to give my presentation tonight….did you find Mac? M...my dad's here, and he's trying….but….I know you're busy…." Bozer felt his heart melt. The girl reminded him so much of Mac sometimes. He chewed his lip. He knew Valerie could do her presentation before the judges in her sleep, he had been one of her many practice judges. But he also knew she needed someone in her corner, someone that could help like Mac...Bozer grinned, an idea forming. He may not be able to help Mac come back, but this he could do.

"Ok, kiddo, I have an idea…"


	8. Chapter 8

Riley jumped, waking up from an uncomfortable sleep. She blinked her eyes and yawned. She was leaning against the cot, she had nodded off without realizing it. She sat up and turned to the cot, her heart skipped a beat. Mac was gone.

"Mac?" She called softly. Riley peeked out the door. The torch was down to red smoking embers and barely lit the hallway. Riley put her hand out and moved toward the main room. She found Mac sitting outside on the steps. "Hey, you ok?" She asked softly. He looked up and smiled.

"I feel a lot better, thanks." He said. Riley sat beside him. The air was so thick and still. Above them the sky was the color of a dark bruise. "Almost dawn." Mac added answering her unasked question. Riley studied him as a torch carrying man passed.

"Beloved." The man said. Mac sighed and shook his head. He rubbed his temples. She could still see a sheen of sweat, but he looked a lot better. He was wearing a clean set of the bulky clothes. He had a far away look in his eyes as he watched the continuous walking of the torch carriers. Mac frowned and looked at Riley.

"There's something not right about them." He said softly. Riley followed his gaze.

"No kidding." She said. She reached out and put her hand against his forehead. He jerked his head back startled and glared at her. Riley smiled. "You still have a fever, but it isn't as bad as it was."

"You could have just asked." Mac said. Riley rolled her eyes. Yup, back to driving her up the wall. Mac looked down at his hands as he fidgeted with the leather braid tied around his waist.

"What's wrong?" Riley asked worried. He was quiet and Riley could almost see him sucking into the depths of his ginormous brain, as Jack called it. Riley frowned. She'd seen Jack work him until he spilled, but Riley didn't know how, and quite frankly didn't have the patience. She smacked him across the arm. Mac winced his hand going to his arm, a look of surprised betrayal on his face. He opened his mouth to complain, Riley cut him off, "I asked what's wrong?" Mac glared at her a long minute before rubbing his arm. "Oh like that hurt, please!" Riley said. Mac smiled and looked down the road at the pond. In the gray gloom of morning it looked like a dirty mirror.

"I'm just thinking about Henry...and Derek." He said softly. Mac looked at Riley, "I told you my first three years, Mr. Anderson and Gramps took me?" Riley nodded. Mac looked down. "Well the last four, Henry Travers took me." Mac smiled fondly, his eyes lost in memory as he spoke.

"Derek...he was always an ass, and a budding serial arsonist, I think. He was always working on cleaner burning fuels. Some of his work was really good too. There were lots of times it came down to him or me." Mac trailed off a sad look in his face.

"What was your project?" Riley asked. Mac smiled.

"Robotics, there's a reason the project Bozer and I are working on is an android." Mac chuckled, "You should see Jack, did you know he tried to punch out Sparky?"

"What? Why?" Riley asked putting her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing too loud.

"He's afraid they are all going to 'rise up' he calls it the Robocalypse. He uses a weird mix of the _Matrix, Predator-"_

 _"Terminator_?" They both laughed.

"Of course...I wish he were here." Mac said softly. He absently wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. Riley agreed, to keep Mac talking she asked,

"So what happened? Derek seems like an asshole." Mac's jaw flinched. Riley could see his hands ball into fists.

"Yes, yes he is. I suppose part of that is my fault…" Mac sighed. "After my dad left, Gramps wasn't able to take me. I had just done a prototype of a robot that was based on a cat, except I couldn't figure out how to get its tail to offset its momentum when it ran. Made a lot of holes in walls." Riley chuckled. Mac shrugged. Henry was a rich...eccentric I guess you could say."

"Nutcase." Riley added. Mac looked at her sharply.

"No, well not then he wasn't. He was more like...like a crazy uncle, but in a good way. He designed a lot of the animatronics we have today. He reminded me of Gepetto."

"Who?" Mac raised an eyebrow.

"Pinocchio's maker?" He said. Riley shook her head. Why would he assume she would just know that off the top of her head? "Anyway, he had a great workshop...you could make anything in there…" Mac smiled.

"I'm guessing the closer you two got, the more Derek went…"

"Insane? Yeah." Mac looked down at the ground, Riley frowned. He'd just fallen into a deep sadness.

"Mac?" He looked up at her then back down again.

"Henry would let me stay with him for weeks before a fair and help me get my presentation ready, he would pay my entrance fees, board, airfare...everything. And his wife Linda...and his two little girls...Lilly and...Sarah? I think. When I was with them it was…"

"Like being in a real family." Mac met her gaze and nodded. They both sat silent a minute. "But Derek?" Riley prodded.

"When I was with him, it was more like facing down the bullies at school." Mac's voice took on an odd tone, anger mixed with grief? Riley leaned in closer. Mac rubbed his hands together. "I got kicked out of two STEM fairs because of him…" Mac stood up and caught himself to keep from swaying. Riley was at his side in an instant. She held out her hand, but didn't touch him. He looked up at her and started to slowly walk on the sidewalk. Riley walked beside him, her worry spiking at every wobble. The sky was now a light pewter, metallic and soulless like a musket ball.

"So what happened." Riley asked. Mac stopped and leaned against the railing of the bungalow next door.

"I finally won and got a full ride on my 7th fair...I was…" Mac looked sad. "I was hoping that Henry would be excited for me…"

"He wasn't?" Riley asked, her eyes wide. Mac kept shuffling forward.

"No, I mean he would have been, but he was dead, or at least I thought he was dead." Mac said softly, his breath was becoming slightly labored.

"What?"

"There was a house fire, Linda and the girls died and Henry...I assumed he'd died too." Mac stopped and leaned down on his knees catching his breath. Riley put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. She looked up, several of the torch carriers were hurrying their way. Riley felt a small tug of relief. If Mac face planted, she'd need their help. He stood up taking a deep breath. He began to walk again. Riley glanced back. The cult members slowed, and walked behind them in silent formation. Riley could feel the hostility in their blank gazes. She shuddered and moved closer to Mac.

Mac didn't seem to notice her or their sudden large entourage. "I could never prove it, but I'm almost sure Derek lit that fire." He said breathlessly, a hand to his wounded side. He stumbled. Riley steadied him and walked him to the next set of broken cement stairs. Mac sat down, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. Riley rubbed his back as he sucked in air. Mac looked up at the silent expectant mass of cult members watching him.

Mac sat up studying them thoughtfully.

"Animatronics." He murmured. Before Riley could ask what was bouncing around in his brain, Michael appeared at their side like a puff of smoke.

"Beloved, are you well?" Mac looked up at the man's distraught face.

"Yeah, just needed to stretch my legs." He said. Michael smiled and ducked his head.

"Of course, Father is at breakfast, if you are ready?" Mac shot Riley a nervous look. Michael misread the expression. "Unless you need transport? I can carry you…" Mac looked over at Riley daring her to say a word. Riley rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine, lead the way." Mac said gruffly. He levered to his feet swaying a moment with his eyes closed. He took a steadying breath, wiped his forehead and nodded at Michael to lead the way. Riley paced her friend. She wasn't surprised and didn't say anything when he put a shaking hand on her shoulder. Without a word, she snugged up beside him and put her arm around his waist being careful of his side. Mac put an arm across her shoulders.

"Thanks Riley." He whispered.

"Of course, Beloved." She joked. He glared down at her, unamused. Riley nodded in apology. She looked up and her eyes widened. The large number of people that had been following them seemed to evaporate back into the one or two randomly walking up and down the street. "They are creepy as hell." She muttered. Mac murmured his agreement. They were silent as they trudged toward the largest of the quonset huts. Mac leaned heavily on Riley by the time they arrived. Riley could feel him shake, wet with sweat. Mac watched his feet, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

The sky was now a grimy blue, and she could see for the first time how pale he was. Riley gritted her teeth, but gave no other sign of how heavy he was. Michael held open the door, then automatically lifted Mac's other arm and draped it over his shoulders.

Mac huffed in frustration, but knew it wasn't fair to make Riley carry his full weight. He smiled his thanks at her and removed his arm, leaning towards Michael. Riley scowled, but couldn't hide the relief in her eyes as she stretched. Michael led them through a cafeteria with two long tables with identical folded chairs spread along both sides of both tables. Riley wrinkled her nose. The tables had a thick visible layer of dust and cobwebs hung from the chairs. She glanced at Mac who was looking at the floor. It was polished cement and she could see scuff marks under each chair, but they too were covered with a thick layer of dust. Riley frowned trying to see why Mac thought that was important.

Michael led them to a large pantry covered with shelves of food, all canned and boxed goods also draped heavily with cobwebs. Mac stopped in front of a huge walk in refrigerator and put his hand on it. He raised his eyebrows and looked at Michael.

"You do have electricity."

"Yes, Beloved. The mine that once worked here has a single remaining line that was strung through the canyon wall. It is very frayed so Father has decreed only necessary things to be electrified. Mac nodded and staggered a step. Michael easily steadied him. "Through here." He directed Riley. Riley led the way into a small dining room. The room was perfectly square and had flames painted on the wall, on the ceiling was a detailed mural of various gods, apparently fire gods. She glanced at Mac who was staring at a chandelier hanging over a round white draped dining room table. It looked like an upside down pine tree only black with literally hundreds of small candles on it. The wax formed a high mountain of droplets made of different colors.

Mac swallowed glad that Riley didn't notice what the light fixture was made of-burnt human bones. Mac felt his knees turn rubbery and everything lost a shade of color. He blinked surprised to find himself in a chair facing the burnt, twisted face of Henry Trevers. Mac gasped and recoiled. Henry's blue eyes which had once reminded him of the Mediterranean's perfect blue, were now emotionless lapis.

"Henry? I thought you'd died." Mac said, blinking sweat out of his eyes. Henry smiled, his teeth were oddly perfect and looked like they had been nailed in a sculpture of bark.

"No, Mac….well yes I did, but I was returned for a purpose. A purpose for both of us...first, come eat. Today is going to be an important day." Mac looked over at Riley who's eyes were wide, she'd picked up the same undertone of menace. Whatever madness this cult was building to, it was culminating today. Michael pushed Mac's chair against the table and waved at Riley to sit in a seat across from Mac. Henry took his seat at the head of a table. He sat staring at Mac, his elbows on the table. Mac swallowed and looked down at the dingy white table cloth.

Everyone looked up at Derek as he entered. Mac and Riley shared nervous glances. Henry sighed in annoyance.

"Father, I'm sorry if I'm late. No one notified me."

"Did you ever think that there was a reason for that?" Henry asked mildly. He looked over at Michael and nodded. Michael snapped his fingers and a group of cult followers swarmed around the table bringing plates, and dishes. Mac was pleased and surprised to find most of them were fruit. He smiled at Riley who took an orange. Mac reached into a bowl of watermelon and pulled out a large piece. As he nibbled that, Michael piled food onto his plate. The smell made Mac's stomach flip-flop. It looked like typical cafeteria eggs, sausage and potatoes. Mac ignored it and slurped at the watermelon. He had to get in as much fluid as he could. Michael poured a tall glass of orange juice. Mac nodded at him and greedily drank it. It was processed, but cool.

Mac glanced at Henry who sat and watched him intently. Mac squirmed uncomfortable under the man's gaze. It had a hypnotic depth that made him uneasy.

"Aren't you going to eat?" He asked around a bite of watermelon. Henry leaned back.

"I find I don't each much...since the fire." Mac turned at the sound of a soft snort at the other end of the table. Derek didn't try to conceal his hatred for Mac in the least. He smiled as he shoveled a huge spoonful of eggs into his mouth.

"Terrible thing, such a bright pretty fire." Derek said with a crocodile smile. Mac raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Henry. Henry scowled at his son, but his attention remained uncomfortably fixed on MacGyver. Mac glanced at Riley who was sipping her juice and met his gaze with her own worry.

"Mac, you know it was your destiny to come here, now...you are my true son, not this...thing." Henry said. Derek sprang to his feet and tried to come over the table, fork in hand. Moving faster than a large man should be able to, Michael grabbed Derek's hand and shoved him back into his chair. Derek wailed,

"Father, how could you?" Henry stood up and slammed his fist on the table.

"How could I? You murderer!" Henry hissed stalking around the table to his son. Mac shot Riley a glance. She mouthed 'awkward' Mac's mouth quirked in agreement and he slowly turned. No one else was in the room. He leaned forward as if intently watching the family drama, while surreptitiously sliding a sharp fork into his sleeve. His eyes darted over to Riley and he could see she was doing the same thing.

"Y...you knew?" Derek babbled cowing before the storm of his father's rage.

"Of course, do you think I'm stupid." Henry leaned closer until he was eye to eye with his son. "I've spent the time trying to decide what to do with you, what punishment would be worthy of the deaths of your mother and perfect sisters...I was going to kill you." Henry stood up and smiled. He walked behind Mac and put his hands on Mac's shoulders. Mac closed his eyes and forced himself not to flinch. The man's hands felt like corded leather. "But then you brought me my true son. It's MacGyver that you owe your life to." Henry patted Mac's shoulder. Mac almost sagged in relief, he put his hand on his head taking steadying breaths.

"But today…" Henry drifted off as a woman carrying a silent toddler entered. Henry leaned closer and smiled as she spoke into his ear. The child turned to face Mac studying him with deep brown eyes.

"It's time. It has finally come." Henry breathed. He looked at Mac, who did not like the bright light in the man's cold blue stone eyes. Mac glanced over at Riley who was ready to go into action. "Michael." Henry nodded at Mac. Before Mac could move, Michael had him by the arms, stood him up and was walking him out the front of the quonset hut. Mac looked up. Black smoke was pouring across the smear of gray sky. It looked like ink spreading in water. Firebrands and sparks came flying over the canyon landing on buildings and starting fires. Mac struggled to break free. He twisted to find Riley but couldn't see her. He was lifted off the ground and let loose a howl of pain as Michael's hands dug into his side. Everything started to dim. He shook his head trying to stay awake.

"My friend!" He yelled trying to squirm free, he could feel fresh blood run down his side.

"Is no longer a concern." Michael said calmly. Mac gasped trying to arch away from the agony of the man's hold. Evidently his comfort was also no longer a concern. He was dimly aware of being lifted high, like a trophy. All of the eyes of the cult members watched him with the same expression of worship on their faces. Mac's breathing came faster and faster. He tried hitting and kicking, but he might just as well be a baby wailing for all the good it did. The tide of the cult brought him to the odd shaped temple at the end of the road. He bit his lip to stay awake, but everything was going dim. He felt himself lifted by uncaring hands and shoved into a cage that smelled of soot and burnt flesh. He heard the lock click behind him.

Mac curled into a ball, closing his eyes against the movement of the cage as it was carried to a wide darkened pit. Mac looked down and felt the watermelon threatened to reemerge. Below him was a deep chasm full of burnt and half burnt human bones. He closed his eyes, slumping against the bars.

"Jack...please…" He whispered as darkness swallowed him whole.

Riley was dragged along with the excited, but oddly still silent tide of people. She watched helplessly as Mac cried out in pain while being carried along like a log in a river. Riley managed to duck to the edge then out of the group sliding into a doorway. She pulled out the fork she had slipped up her sleeve and braced for a fight. No one seemed to notice her, but they did block her way out.

Riley glanced behind her. A dimly lit workshop spread out behind her. She saw benches full of all kind of tools, a row of welding tanks stood like shadowy guards along one wall. Beside them was a screen door leading outside. Riley ran out the door. An arm grabbed her around the throat, she was slammed into the metal side of the quonset hut with bruising force.

She looked up into the grinning angry face of Derek Trevers. Riley didn't hesitate she kicked with her knee as she swung the fork with all of her strength. She managed to drive the fork deep into his neck. Derek screamed, putting his hand against blood spurting out of his neck. Riley shoved past him and took off running. The smoke seeping into the canyon made everything hazy. Heavy ash fell to the ground slowly, like heavy depressed snow.

Riley found herself in a dark dirt alley that ran along the length of the canyon wall behind the quonset huts. She leaned against the cool stone breathing hard. Her hands shook and her knees felt rubbery. Riley looked in the direction they had taken Mac. Tears stung her eyes. What could she do?

Riley heard a scrape beside her and hands again grabbed her. She whirled out the grip and held her fist back ready to let loose, when she froze, her jaw hanging down.

"Oh my God, Jack!" She cried. Before Jack could say a single thing Riley threw her arms around his neck. Jack glanced behind him. Freddy, Oliver and his faces were all wet, running with sweat, red from the quick run they'd made and the fast climb down the cliffs. The fire had been way too close for comfort.

"Ri, where's Mac?" Jack asked gently pulling away from her. Riley took a deep breath and straightened.

"This way! Hurry." She said turning in the direction of the temple. She could hear the clank of the heavy gear as the men ran behind her, but none of the three lost pace. Riley ran past the place she had stabbed Derek, there was no sign of the man other than a smeared bloody hand print dripping on the metal. She heard the mumbled static of a tac radio. Jack put a hand on Riley's shoulder to stop her. Riley stood facing them.

Freddy listened carefully, then looked up his green eyes grim.

"The path between us and the airfield is on fire. We're trapped." Riley felt her heart sag. Freddy put his hand on his father's shoulder. Oliver bowed his head, his eyes sad as he accepted the inevitable. Riley turned to see Jack's face split into a grin.

"Nothing to worry about, we go get my boy and he'll figure a way out." He said confidently. The other two men stared at Jack in disbelief then turned to Riley who nodded. Freddy and Oliver looked at each other and shrugged. They nodded to the others and started running along the narrow dirt path.

The cult members all stood in silent concentric circles around the temple, their eyes masks of bliss as they watched the sky above them darken with a thick pall of smoke. They were oblivious to the hot sparks and firebrands landing among them. Jack frowned watching as a larger spark landed on the head of a still baby. There was a sizzle. The baby didn't move. Jack felt his heart triphammer in his chest. The baby's hair burst into a little fire. Jack felt sick. Then the baby's scalp melted away revealing a crown of gleaming metal underneath.

"Oh hell no!" Jack said. He looked at the others and realized the truth. They were all robots. He looked over to Riley's horrified expression. "Robocalypse!" Jack hissed. He swallowed, suddenly finding himself in one of his worst nightmares. Jack tamped down on his fear and shoved his way through the crowd still as mannequins. None of them seemed to notice the four as they pushed through the edge of the crowd toward the temple.

Jack felt himself breath in relief. These were nowhere as sophisticated as the one Mac was making at Phoenix. He was about to reach the temple, when he realized how wrong he was. The ones in the closest ring around the temple turned, their faces contorted in rage as they reached out to attack him and the others. Jack shrugged against his last remaining oxygen tank. It had taken one whole one to follow Riley's trail to the canyon. Jack grunted as he swung the tank with all his strength. He his hard enough to tear at the plastic flesh, but the robots were unfazed.

"Son of a bitch!" He yelled. Fear shivered through his bones. They didn't have time to waste fighting fucking terminators! He yelled swinging the tank again, only to have it captured by a woman Riley's size, pulled out of his hands and slammed into his own skull. Jack fell unconscious among a tangle of angrily stomping feet.


	9. Chapter 9

**Fire:** Matches-a tiny seed of chaos hidden in chemicals affixed to wood or stiff paper, waiting to be struck and slid against rough immutability. The first recorded attempt at a match mentioned in history was in 577 in China, home of gunpowder and fireworks. It was called "light-bringing slave," but it was no slave. Centuries of attempts could not tame the flame waiting to flare from sulfur or phosphorus, acid, sugar...many ways did humans try to contain the uncontainable. In 1828, the Promethean match, involved crushing a small pustule of glass. Outdoor matches of this type were called Vesuvian or flamer. Always the power of flame was likened to a tool that only came from gods, and the bringing of it to humanity always seen as a theft, a betrayal of the divine. But like the soul within man, it could never be tamed, not completely. Early matches were banned because they tended to explode. The word 'match' bespeaks the reunion of gunpowder and flame. Used as cord to light muskets and cannons, gave humans the ultimate killing ability, the fire shattering flesh gathering souls. Hungry and never satisfied, the fire within man turned guns upon each freeing primal chaos, lighting the cord of their final destruction. In the early 20th century, matches became known as Lucifers.

Phosphorous, the breath of the devil himself huddles inside the eggshell of tiny powders, igniting without provocation. Still like war they tried to contain it within metal, within empty husks, delusions of purity and goodness. But even indifferent metal glows with fire, with soul when it is burnt hot enough. It glows with the remembered fire within the deepest heart of earth. Humanity has always believed they control creation, the making and breaking of all things, the chaos swirling around them, within them. But fire is the Trixter, never ending, never predictable, life itself.

Man assumes fire bows to them, they have matches in junk drawers, survival kits, candles burn in almost every home, stoves run with blue hot propane flames. But always chaos waits, perching, hungry, insatiable-and one mistake, a cigarette dropped in leaves, an unseen ember in a camping fire, a child playing, a cord fraying and it's claws shred worlds, lives. Hot primal teeth swallow small homes, vast cities, miles of forests that have taken centuries to grow. Death walking along side life, as it always has been. Like man himself a perfect balance of fuel and oxygen, fire is the foundation of the universe itself. Man has even returned fire to space, but find it already there in many suns, many worlds, countless souls.

I know fire, I have felt it crawl into my lungs, nibble the muscle of my heart, lick every bone, and sear flesh into bands of scars, unmoving and unfeeling as metal. I am the child of life and death. I watched all I love vanish into black fecal smoke. It reshaped my clay, remade my soul.I know death as others know life, as once I knew life. I know what awaits everything. I know I can not control flames as I can not control souls. But I can save them, set them free.

One by one, my offering to the eternal I bring them through the fire. I recreate them with the unbreakable depths of the earth, mechanics I have been shown by revelation. Machines immune to the painful touch of my Lady. Empty shells waiting for their flames return, the return of their souls. My children. I am life giver, I control and lose myself to the uncontrollable. I know every person, every carrier of the bones in the pit, every soul I released, just as I know every metal form I have created for them. This is their true and eternal Haven, forever united with the primal heartbeat of the universe. Fire, my mother and Death, my father, hold the hands of my loved ones, who have gone before, who wait to grasp my very being and lift me to their side. Once my soul joins the inferno, I will return my children's souls to them purified by eternal flame, even as I shed mine and the divine consumes me. I am the match, igniting infinity, bringing salvation.

Mac weakly watched Henry as he preached to the inner ring of his followers. They all wore the identical expression of adoration. Mac tried to swallow but felt like every drop of water in him had been leached away. He could see the drips of his blood splattering the bones beneath him. He closed his eyes to keep from vomiting. If he understood the mad mumbo jumbo, Henry had lured his friends, his followers here, killed them, probably burned them alive and built androids to take their places. Mac had seen some crazy in his time, but this was really fucked up.

Mac looked up at the cage he was locked in. It didn't take a lot of imagination to guess what the inner ring was going to do with the flaming torches they held. He tuned out the lunatic preaching hoping Henry still was as long-winded as he used to be. Mac gripped the bars wincing at the creosote that rubbed onto his hands. He slowly pulled himself upright closing against dizziness caused by the rocking of the cage as he moved. He had a whole new sympathy for parakeets.

He blinked sweat out of his eyes and studied the top of the cage. Michael and another big android had lifted the entire cage by holding a thick black bar, probably iron, between them. Mac had been carried up a rickety metal ladder and the bar was set in braces that left him hanging about twenty feet over the deep, half full pit beneath him. The ladders had been removed. Mac leaned toward the lock studying it. It would be simple enough and he could cross the bar and slide down the cross beams.

The only problems of course were the torches ready to ignite into deadly flame, not to mention the growing conflagration outside the cement pile they all stood in, and his own failing strength. Oh and he needed a distraction. Mac closed his eyes, forcing calm into his gut. He shoved the fear and weakness firmly into a cage to be felt later and bent, working the fork into an impromptu master key. He kept glancing up at the lock trying to get it the right size and shape. Mac gritted his teeth working around the shaking in his hands and slipperiness of sweat soaking his entire body. If he dropped the fork...Mac forced himself to focus. Mac collapsed against the side of the cage, breathing hard. He gathered his strength and looked down. Henry was still ranting at his unmoving followers. He had a hysterical edge to his voice. Mac frowned wondering if he was working himself up into believing his own crap.

Mac put the fork in his mouth and slowly climbed the bars until he could reach the lock. His body shook and he gasped in agony as he clung to the black bars. It took a few tries but he was rewarded with a soft click. The door opened and Mac almost fell out of the door. He managed to roll to the side of the door, pulling it shut as Henry and the others turned to look at him. He held his breath closing his eyes.

"Well, my children, the time of the Joining is here." Without ceremony, Henry dropped his torch into the pit. The others followed suit. The flame whooshed at first blue then changing to a steady orange, yellow. Obviously an accelerant, Mac absently told himself. He could feel the heat immediately. The smell of burning leaves made Mac look down. His eyes went wide as he saw the clothes start to smoke. Natural fibers, definitely not cotton. Mac put his feet on the bottom of the cage and swung it open, he held on for dear life as the cage tilted him toward the flames. Mac refused to give up.

Desperation fueled tenacity as he slowly inch wormed his way up the door to the roof of the cage. He pulled himself up onto the top and almost passed out, feeling himself hit the roof of the cage, barely able to focus. He blinked and saw Michael and the other huge android bringing back the ladders. Through the smoky haze of the fire below him, Mac could see Henry yelling at his followers. Mac had never been religious, but with the man's disfigured skin and insane ranting, and the devoted blank-faced followers whose plastic faces had started to melt Mac could understand what religions meant by Hell and Satan.

Mac forced himself to his knees, glad the swaying cage had stilled to only a mild rocking. The two androids were reaching the top of the ladders and stood waiting. Mac frowned. He would have to get by one of them to get out of the fire. Judging by the increasing smoke around him and feeling the singing of his hairs, he didn't have any time to debate it. He coughed, almost doubling over with pain. He braced himself, crawled over to the bar and wrapping his arms and legs around it inch wormed himself feet first toward Michael. He ignored everything focusing on holding onto the bar and forcing his aching body to keep functioning.

Mac had fallen into a haze and actually jumped when his foot brushed the cooler metal of the platform. He pulled it back, but not before Michael grabbed his ankle and pulled. Mac was shaken off the bar and screamed as he swung by his leg, hitting the metal of the platform hard enough to stun him. A whole new agony shot through his hip, leg and side. He felt his stitches rip open like cloth and blood began to freely run down his side. As he hung over the edge of the pit, he closed his eyes accepting the inevitable. He had nothing left and knew sure fiery death was a mere breath away.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Being the last one in line, Riley saw Jack and the father and son pair get sucked into the swirling angry mass of robotic limbs and plastic flesh. Riley bit her lip, she had to get to Mac, but Jack….?

"Dammit!" Riley snarled. She stayed to the edges of the fray and ran toward the inside of the temple. She desperately clung to the hope that Jack Dalton could take care of himself. "He better." Riley muttered ducking behind the unmoving outer circle. They seemed to be lost in whatever the robot's equivalent of the Rapture. Riley stayed to the shadows and moved along the robots that seemed less sophisticated, and less violent.

Riley finally managed to reach one of the large window openings. Riley peered in and gasped in horror seeing a bloody and unmoving Mac being dangled over the fire like a rag doll. She crept over the broken cement ignoring the cuts and scrapes as she scrambled into the temple. She winced at the sound of cement grinding against cement as she scrambled over the pile.

She landed awkwardly and crouched. No one seemed to notice her. Riley looked around the open temple but saw no way to make a distraction. A scream made her and every other head turn to the entrance way. Riley's eyes widened. A bloody Derek staggered toward his father.

"Hello, Father…" The man sounded drunk, he was pale almost completely white. With his shellaced hair, he looked like dracula if dracula had a rough night with his vampire bride. Henry turned to his son and they started shouting back and forth. Riley tuned them out creeping closer to Mac. Riley smiled. Michael lifted Mac back up and dumped him on the small platform descending to help Henry in the confrontation with his son. It was now or never.

Riley scurried over to the pit, wincing at the heat from the growing fire. Rile climbed the ladder and tried to ignore how it swayed under her weight. She bent over Mac.

"Mac?" She whispered. Riley breathed in relief, feeling a pulse. She looked around her, there was no easy way to get off the small platform. Riley's heart jumped in her chest as Michael paused in his dash to Henry and Derek and turned looking right at her. Shit! The robot pivoted and ran back up the rickety ladder, reaching out for Riley. Riley dragged Mac back and kicked Michael in the face.

The man, robot Riley corrected herself, reeled back with the force of the blow. Riley leaned forward and raised both boots to hit Michael's face again. The momentum sent Michael reeling backward, unfortunately it also broke the fragile ladder and sent all three of them plunging toward the ground. Michael, of course, was up in seconds. Riley was knocked flat on her back and tried to suck in air. She looked up as Michael, now with half of his plastic face hanging off stood over her.

Michael took one step forward before a sharp spike of metal impaled his right knee. Riley finally sucked in a breath and rolled to her feet. She looked over at Mac who had fallen beside the broken wreckage of the ladder. Mac was on his side gasping for air. He let go of the metal and offered Riley a wobbly smile.

Michael's knee sparked and he tilted unable to pull out the metal spike. Riley saw her chance. She dashed over to Mac reached over him and with a howl yanked free a longer piece of metal. Using her momentum and all of her weight she jammed the metal through the robot's head. Her swing was so strong that it went through Michael's forehead and pinned him to a crack in the wall surrounding the pit. Michael's arms still waved as he tried to remove the spear.

Riley didn't waste time, she ran to Mac's side and tried pulling him to his feet. Mac moaned weakly, but was completely unable to offer any help. He pushed at her hands.

"Go!" He hissed falling back painfully. Mac's bleary blue eyes met Riley's. "Go...you promised...please…"

"Like hell!" Riley growled stepping forward. A hand around her throat made her pause, this time she didn't hesitate, before the arm could grab a solid hold she bent forward and threw the figure over her head. Derek gave a cry of pain as he smashed into the pile of broken metal. He looked up, reaching out a hand. With tears in his eyes, he cried

"Father! Father!" Riley spun to see Henry Travers staring at her, his eyes blazed like coals in the smoky haze of the pit. He looked at Riley and screamed, coming after her. Rile bent and lashed out with her right foot catching the taller man in the side. Henry doubled over and tilted toward the pit. Riley felt herself pushed aside as Derek threw himself after his father. They both plunged into the fire. Riley stared after them stunned, watching the fire flare brighter and smoke darker as they burned as oddly silent as their robotic followers.

The robots all froze and turned. Riley stepped back edging to Mac's side. She crouched beside him and took his hand. Dimly she winced at how cold his hand was.

"Wh...wh...what happens now?" She stuttered.

"No clue." Mac gasped.

"Father!" The huge android that had been stepping down the other rickety ladder. In eerie mechanical monotone the others all began to chant it, the closest robots stepped forward into the pit. Then the row after them followed.

"We...have...to go...plastic...poison…" Mac gasped. Riley shook herself, reached down under Mac's arms and began to drag him back to the window she'd come in from. The robots had stopped fighting, but were now pressed together fighting to get into the fire pit. Riley winced at the heavy blood trail Mac was making as she dragged him.

"Hold on, Mac. Don't you give up on me. We're getting out of here…" Riley gritted. Mac didn't answer, his head hung limp. Riley kept pulling until she tripped over something and found herself falling ass first into the pile of cement that formed the window. Riley looked around her desperately. She crept up the pile and peeped out. Riley two red-headed firemen were crouched beside a dazed Jack Dalton.

"Jack!" Riley screamed. He turned his head, and she winced taking in the monster bruise and gush of blood coming from the side of his head.

"Riley," Jack cried trying to get to his feet. He fell back to the ground. The older red head bent to tell him something then he and the taller man ran to her side. She crept back. They quickly scurried over the cement to Mac's side. Freddie checked for a pulse and his eyes widened with surprise when he found one. He bent grabbing Mac by the front of the shirt and sat him up, bending to haul the smaller man over his shoulder. Between both Flints, they managed to help Riley work Mac over the pile of broken cement and over to Jack. Jack looked up at Mac panic in his eyes. Riley bent down.

"He's still alive, Jack. We have to go." Jack nodded and Riley helped him up. "This way." Riley decided their best chance was back in the quonset huts, at least there was food there, and maybe something to help them survive. She ran blindly through thick smoke and ash, coughing as she felt her way along the metal walls, Jack leaned on her and kept his other hand on the carved stone of the canyon.

With a single glance, Riley could see the tiny settlement was nothing more than thick black and red fires climbing burnt skeletons of bungalows. They only had minutes left, if that. Riley felt the door and turned Jack into the doorway. The other three followed her in. She slammed the door shut and locked it.

They sat panting a minute in surprise, Riley had not noticed how loud the chaos outside was until it was gone. Freddy gently laid Mac down. Oliver came over with the crumpled dining room table cloth he'd pulled off the table in the other room. Jack slumped beside his partner. He took a hand.

"Hey, kid. We went through a lot of work to get here, and we sure as hell didn't do it for you to sleep through the job and let us all get bar be qued." Freddy took the white cloth and shoved it hard into Mac's side. His eyes fluttered open and he gasped, arching his back to get away from the agony. Freddy expected this and held on, while Oliver held Mac down with a hand on his chest. "Well about time, bud." Jack said smiling. Mac looked over to Jack and smiled.

"...bout time...got...ere.." Mac wheezed. He blinked looking up at the others, his brain taking a tic to bring him up to date. He grabbed Jack's shirt and pulled him down. "Walk in...welding...O2...siding and aluminum...shelter…"Then Mac's eyes closed and he went completely limp.

"Mac?" Jack asked desperation slipping into his voice. He shook his partner and got no reaction. Jack looked up at the others. "I hope that made sense to you?"

"There's a walk in fridge back through there." Riley said, pointing to the far doorway. "And the welding stuff is there...does he want us to weld together a shelter?" Riley asked, she trailed off seeing Freddy and Oliver grinning at each other.

"Your friend is a genius!" Oliver gushed.

"Told you." Jack said confused. Freddy bent and lifted Jack's hand to take over his place at Mac's side. Jack scooted closer so he had a better angle. He lifted Mac's torso and cradled it in his lap as he pulled the younger man closer.

"You go and bring every oxygen tank you see over there into the walk in freezer." Oliver said pointing at Riley. She nodded and ran over to the long line of welding equipment. Oliver turned to Freddy, "there's another quonset hut through the back, I bet that's where they're keeping siding."

"And the kitchen has aluminum foil." Freddy added. Jack watched them leave then turned to Mac. Jack winced at the blood soaking his partner's side. The white cloth he held wasn't soaking through as fast as he'd expected. Jack hoped that meant the kid had stopped breathing. As it was, Mac looked like he'd all but bled out. Jack leaned his chin against Mac's forehead. It was damp and cool.

"Just us here, bro. I have to say, things really aren't looking too good right now." Jack whispered.

"J..k…" The almost silent whisper startled Jack. He looked down and grinned at Mac who quirked almost white lips in a semblance of a smile.

"Hey." Jack said not even trying to stop the tears from running out of his eyes. Mac leaned his head into Jack's chest then closed his eyes. Jack curled around his friend. If they were going to die here, at least they'd be together. Jack sighed. Really that's all he'd ever really wanted out of his death. Although, he admitted with a smile, he always it would be more like Butch and Sundance. Jack being Butch, of course. Still, they'd fought an army of killer robots. Jack figured that earned him the biggest 'I told you so' of all time. Jack looked up a few minutes later when the Flints ran to him and Mac. Without speaking or pausing, Oliver hauled Jack upright and dragged him toward the kitchen and Freddy stooped and lifted Mac in his arms followed.

Jack breathed in the cool air of the walk in. There was a single light bulb in a small metal cage hanging over them. The Flints and Riley had moved out all of the boxes of food to make way for three oxygen tanks and a stack of siding squared. Riley was shoving aluminum foil into the cracks of the refrigerator and lining the walls with it. She taped it together with duct tape. Jack sank down in the corner, and Freddy eased Mac onto his lap, allowing the older man to continue holding pressure on Mac's wound. While Riley sealed the cracks around the door. The Flints lined as much of the refrigerator's walls, ceilings, and floor with as much siding as they could.

They all sat hunched against the rough burgundy building sheets. They were hard and uncomfortable. Jack thought they felt like sandpaper.

"Ok, the power probably won't last much longer. When it goes we're going to have to use the oxygen, but only in small bursts so we don't get poisoned by it. Everyone lay as flat as you can, away from the door as you can. Lay face down. There can't be much fuel left in the town, so hopefully once she's had her fill, the fire will burn out. On my last call, " Oliver choked. Freddy put a hand on his father's shoulder. "uhmmm...Penny said that she'll keep sending in water planes until the canyon's clear. That should dispatch any cyanide or mercury gas that might have been stirred up." Riley looked at Jack. Jack nodded and gave her a nervous smile. Together they gently rolled Mac onto his side, and laid down on either side of him. Riley reached across Mac and took Jack's hand. They shared a deep look and nodded, needing to say nothing.


	10. Chapter 10

Jack groaned. He felt like an aluminum wrapped potato on a grill. He coughed at the thick smell of burnt plastic. He reached out and felt an unmoving Mac. Jack fumbled until he felt a steady fast pulse. Jack frowned at the warmth of his friend. Jack reached across Mac to Riley.

"Riley, you still alive?" Riley coughed.

"I think so, Mac?"

"He needs to get some medical help soon. Everybody else alive?" He heard muffled groans of the other two men. Jack sat up. He was glad that everything was dark as he could feel his head split open and his brains slosh around. He put his hands on the side of his head and leaned back moaning.

"Jack?" Riley asked. Her voice fuzzed out for a minute. Jack blinked and opened his eyes. A sliver of light came in from the door which was pushed ajar. Riley sat looking down at him worried. Jack sat up and closed his eyes. "Jack?" Riley asked bending to look in his face. Dried blood stained the side of his head and a sizeable lump rose under the dark bruise on his scalp. He blinked his eyes and shook his head wincing. He patted Riley on the arm.

"I'm ok, kiddo." He turned to see the Flints pushing to get the door open. Jack blinked at the light and smiled. There was still a haze of smoke, and the stench was almost overwhelming, but there was no flickering or heat from the fire. "Whoo! We made it!" Jack yelled. The father and son team turned and smiled. Jack looked down at Mac and lost his elation. The white table cloth they had soaked through and Mac's skin was almost as white as it had been on the table. "We gotta get Mac out of here," Jack said pushing to his feet. Riley steadied him until he got his feet.

The door was almost half way open and while still fetid, the air outside was much cleaner than the air inside the makeshift fire shelter. They all stopped to look out in disbelief. The small settlement was raised. Everything was black and thick with carbon and creosote. Only piles of half melted siding and black smoking skeletons remained.

"Told you, Robocalype." Jack murmured. Riley shot him a sour look. Jack smiled and moved to help open the door. The metal frames of the tables and shelves had only dim glints of metal showing through the burnt mess of exploded cans and debris. Jack turned and knelt beside Mac. He pulled up the younger man's singed shirt and frowned. Where Mac had been sutured together was now a seeping line with ragged edges. The edges were hot with redness. Mac moaned and his eyes cracked open. Jack knelt closer. Sweat soaked Mac's grimy hair and ran down his cheeks and neck.

"Hey there, bud," Jack said softly. He glanced up as Freddy Flint knelt beside Jack. He had refolded the bloody white cloth into a thick rectangle. Mac blinked and squinted gasping with pain. He reached up a hand and grabbed Jack's shirt.

"Jack," Mac managed. His eyes roved the refrigerator and he managed a small smile and fist bumped Jack's fist. Mac's eyes landed on Riley and he looked at her worried. "You...k?" Riley rolled her eyes and offered the man a small smile. 

"I will be as soon as we get out of this place." Mac smiled. His eyes were sinking low. Freddie motioned at Jack. Jack bent and lifted Mac to sitting. Mac cried out in pain, his fist curling harder against Jack's shoulder. Mac began to breath fast and blood started running out of his wound.

"This is going to hurt," Freddy said. Mac managed half a glare at him before the tall man wrapped his abdomen and tugged it hard. Mac's breath stopped, he closed his eyes and gasped. Freddy tied the bandage tightly. Jack cradled Mac's head in the crook of his elbow.

"Slow and easy, bro, slow and easy." Mac closed his eyes and forced himself to take deep breaths. He coughed and curled up huffing in pain. Jack bent down and hauled Mac up to his feet. Freddy caught the younger man on the other side and they both lifted Mac by his arms over their shoulders. Mac's head hung forward as he sucked in air. Riley frowned as she followed them out. She wanted to take a deep refreshing breath, but the air was even hotter and heavier than it had been before the fire.

They heard the buzz of a plane. Oliver looked up and waved, his face elated. The plane was dropping a solid spout of water. It hit them hard but felt wonderful. The plane waggled a wing then turned to pivot back towards the nearby airfield. They made their way through the charred town slowly having to pause to move around piles of smoking debris.

Riley frowned and had to admit Jack might be right about the apocalypse. The place looked like a picture of Hiroshima after Little Boy hit. She felt her stomach churn. A small clump of black ashes moved as Jack stepped over it. A metallic baby's crown came up from the dirt.

"Eyaaah!" Jack squawked then kicked the skull off of the tiny Android. Mac moaned as he was jolted. Jack returned to his place at Mac's side and visibly shuddered. "Robots man...eww." Looking over at the doll sized metal skull Riley had to agree. As she watched the lidless eyes rotated to look at her. She closed her eyes and scooted past as quickly as she could.

"What if more robots are still working?" Riley asked, a quiver in her voice. Jack shot her a dirty look.

"Just had to go and say that didn't you." He muttered.

"I mean will they come out here and clean up this place?" Riley asked. Oliver turned his eyes scanning the wasteland the canyon had become.

"No, they'll just leave this for the ghosts...again." The older man said philosophically. Quite a few urban legends would be raised about this place. Riley shuddered she'd never watch it on youtube, that was for damn sure.

The dirt road to the airfield was still intact, unlike the trees that had lined it. As they passed the toxic pond Riley wrinkled her nose. The top scum had been burned off, but a thick oily blackness floated on it instead.

Riley grinned as she heard the nearby hum of motors and voices. Jack smiled down at her relief in his eyes. It wasn't until they heard the cheers of the pilots and crew buzzing around the planes, that Riley realized it was finally over. She closed her eyes, her shoulders slumped and she was suddenly very tired. She felt herself wobble. The kind face of Oliver bent over her as he dipped her arm over his shoulder.

"Easy, girl. We made it." Oliver said from far away. The next thing Riley knew she was on the larger plane roaring toward the Flints. She coughed and realized that she had an oxygen mask on. She blinked and sat up fighting a yawn. Her chest was burning and ever muscle hurt like hell.

Jack sat across from her holding his mask on. His eyes opened at her movement and he managed a smile around a roll of harsh coughs. Riley looked toward the front of the plane and saw Oliver and Freddy sitting on seats behind the crew sucking in air on their own oxygen masks. Freddy turned and smiled at Riley.

"Good morning!" He called moving the oxygen mask so she could hear him. "We land in about an hour, go ahead and get some sleep." Riley nodded then turned. Her heart fell as she looked aft. Mac was on a stretcher resting on a pallet. Two red-headed women were bent over him. He also wore an oxygen mask and a flaccid clear fluid IV bag hung on a pop-up rack on the corner of the pallet. The women had Mac's abdomen exposed and looked like they were taping his belly back together. Their faces were grim. Riley tried to stand up and fell back coughing. She waited for a second to catch her breath then tried again. Leaning against the cabin wall, she wobbled to Mac's side.

He really didn't look good. Riley never really knew what pale as a ghost really meant until now. His lips were bloodless and sweat ran freely off his face. Riley reached down and winced at how clammy his body felt. She looked up nervously. The older woman, obviously a Flint sighed and shrugged. Riley reached out and grabbed Mac's flaccid hand. He had to make it, she silently demanded

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Mac slowly opened his eyes. He took a deep breath and broke off coughing. He clutched his hand over his abdomen as pain seemed to crush his middle. He sucked in air. After the pain floated down to manageable he slowly took in his surroundings. He was laying in a child's room, a girl's room. He laid in a canopy princess' bed and the walls and furniture were all shades of pink and purple. Mac sighed. He'd woken up in worse places He closed his eyes. He hurt everywhere. He realized that his shirt was off. He felt his abdomen and was surprised to find thick bandages taped to his abdomen. He frowned then realized that this far up in the arctic circle hospitals was probably scarce.

A rustle of movement beside him made him look over into the wide leaf colored eyes of a red-headed girl about owner of this room, Mac guessed. Mac groaned and put his hand on his head thinking of Valerie. What day was it? Could they still make the judging? Mac felt like he'd totally let the girl down. Mac looked up at a mobile of purple glittering stars and unicorns and sighed. It had taken seven times to get the win, he'd just have to help Valerie until she got hers. The girl stood up. Mac smiled at her weakly.

"Hi." He croaked. She gave him a winning smile then lifted a stuffed pink bunny from behind her and handed it to him. He took it and winced almost dropping it. He barely had the strength to hold it. The girl giggled reached forward, took the bunny from his hand and nestled it in the crook of his arm. Mac smiled down at her. "Thank you." She hopped, turned then ran out of the room yelling as she went.

"He's awake, Grandpa!" Mac sighed looking down at the rabbit wondering exactly where the hell he was. He heard the thunder of running feet and Jack burst into the room, followed by Riley and Bozer. Mac took a deep breath in relief and grinned. Mac held out a weak hand and Jack slapped it.

"Glad to see you finally wake up," Jack said.

"Me too." Mac coughed. Bozer had tears in his eyes and flopped himself on Mac, careful of causing more injury. Mac hugged him back weakly.

"I thought you were gone…" Bozer sniffed. Mac patted him on the back. Riley held back a small smile on her face. Mac grinned at her and held out a hand. She gave him a gentle hug. He leaned into her ear.

"Thanks for getting me home, Ri." He said softly. She stood up and wiped her eyes turning away. Mac heard a click and turned to see Jack snapping a picture of him with his camera. The older man was grinning. Mac rolled his eyes. He yawned and sighed with sadness

"What's wrong, bud?" Jack said concerned.

"I feel bad for letting Valerie down." He raised an eyebrow when Bozer started laughing. 

"Don't worry, Mac. I got reinforcements for Valerie, she's fine and made a new friend." Mac looked at him puzzled.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Jack held out a hand and helped a sore Mac out of the taxi. The older man shook his head but didn't waste any more breath arguing. Mac closed his eyes and wobbled. Jack held onto him while he paid the driver. Mac held his hand across his sore side as he climbed the sidewalk and walked toward the Seattle Convention Center. Riley and Bozer had taken the Phoenix jet back home. Mac had insisted on riding back with the Lawson's. Jack flew with him too, as he put it, save the street cleaners from picking his brains up off the sidewalk.

Mac managed to walk into the large building on his own only needing to hold onto Jack's arm. It had taken two days for them to get back. In Jack's opinion, the kid should be flat on his back for a month of Sundays. Of course, Mac had other ideas. He'd made arrangements for the Lawson's to stay the extra time if they wanted to. Valerie almost blew out Mac's ear drum with her squeal of yes. After that, Pete Lawson really had no say in the matter.

Mac looked up rubbing sweat out of his eyes. He was taking several horse pills for his infection and felt better, but it hadn't been long enough for them to do much of anything other than giving him an upset stomach.

"Mac!" Valerie yelled. Mac only had a second to brace himself before he was grabbed into a happy if painful hug. Mac hugged back, closing his eyes against the lightheadedness. Jack saw his partner's pain and decided to help him out.

"What about me? Don't I get a hug too?" He asked holding out his arms. Valerie laughed and gave him a short, dutiful hug. Mac chuckled at Jack's expression of hurt. "Why do they always hug you more? It just isn't fair."

"Maybe I smell better?" Mac offered. Jack shrugged and nodded. The kid had a point.

"I work harder than you do, that's all." He said. Mac shook his head and grinned as Valerie dashed off and came back hauling her reinforcement and new friend over to Mac. Mac grinned and hugged the smaller woman.

"Well, it's about time, Boy Genius," Frankie said. She stepped back to study her former MIT lab assistant and frowned. "Jeez, Mac. I died and looked better than you do." The woman joked. Mac chuckled and had to support his side with his hand.

"Thanks for coming out, Frankie." Frankie smiled and put her arm around Valerie's shoulders.

"I have to start training my new lab assistant." She said. Mac raised an eyebrow. Valerie was almost vibrating with happiness.

"How'd you do?" He asked.

"I got second!" Valerie squealed. "The only one that scored higher was a guy who put together a full Android, he did pretty well…" Mac and Jack shared a long-suffering look and led the way up to their suite. Valerie chatted oblivious to the slumped shoulders of the older men. As they waited for the elevator, Frankie sidled up to Mac's side.

"So I hear you are building a full Android at that think tank of yours." Mac grimaced and looked at her.

"I am, but I just might have to let my research breathe a little."

"Still didn't learn your lesson?" Jack said. Mac's knees went a little weak. Jack supported him with an arm around the waist. "Terminator, man, you guys are building Skynet, you got to let that shit go." Mac put a shaking arm over his partner's shoulders.

"For once, I almost agree with you." Mac sighed.


End file.
